Serendipity Part II
by The dudeoffanfiction
Summary: Sequel to Serendipity. As they enter their first year of high school, Tomoya and Kotomi have to wrestle with budding romance, and the truth behind the plane crash Kotomi had convinced herself was just an accident.
1. The Beginning of Freshman Year

**1: The Beginning of Freshman Year**

 _Monday, April 8_ _th_ _2000_

 _ **A/N 1: As the title indicates, this is a sequel to my story "Serendipity". If you haven't done so already, I highly recommend reading that story before taking a look at this one.**_

 _ **A/N 2: Japanese naming conventions will be used as needed during dialog. However, narration (regardless of whose POV it's following) will not be bound by such restrictions.**_

 _ **A/N 3: Perspective will consistently switch per chapter between Kotomi and Tomoya, starting with the former. If a chapter happens to follow a different character's POV, the pattern will pick up afterwards where it left off.**_

"Good morning, students,"

The Principal adjusts the microphone protruding from the podium and fiddles with his bow tie. Despite his nervous body language, he looks clean-cut with thin, well-trimmed gray hair and a face that lacks even the inklings of stubble.

"I am Okita Jiro. Today, I will begin Hikarizaki High School's 25th school year,"

Obligatory applause follows. While speeds vary, only few others, including myself, actually have the correct clapping speed. The discordant sound is audible yet not even diverting to the common ear. Even those who are consciously aware of the noise of their hands slapping against each other wouldn't notice the sub-par speed of their peers.

"For us in the faculty, this is landmark year. When our school was launched in 1974 by our founder, Kubo Mitsuru, he desired to create a school with academic standards that had never been set in our town before. Since then, tens of thousands of students have attended this high school, and according to research conducted by our staff, 88% ended up in careers that satisfied them."

He grips both sides of the podium. "It has taken the dedication and work ethic of staff and student alike to make this school what it is today. If that loyalty continues, this should be another excellent year."

Another round of applause ends abruptly at the signal of the Principal.

"I am sure most of you checked which classrooms you were assigned for this year. If you haven't, see the billboards on the right walls of the auditorium once I am finished."

He nods slowly. "Let us have a moment of silence Kubo-sama who died in a traffic accident three years ago on July 16th, 1996."

Each head in the auditorium bows their head and closes their eyes to pay respects to the school's late founder. Because of how sudden and without warning my parents' death had been 4 years ago, I completely understand how horrible this must have been for his family, and everyone who knew him.

After fifteen seconds, the mourning period ends. Jiro-sensei steals a glance at his watch and clasps his hands together.

"It is now 7:55. You are all permitted to stand up from your seats and head to class,"

Most of us are a little more than eager to get to class. Another chaotic, informal situation occurs as students pile through corridors and walk up stairs to get to their classrooms.

"Again, if anyone is unsure of their class room number, take a look at the billboards on the right wall."

 _Class 1-D._ I repeat to myself as I navigate the crowd of people. Normally, I'd head straight to class, but Tomoya had suggested the idea of walking together after orientation was complete.

I see next to one of the billboards, standing apart from the students around him. My heart skips a beat as he runs his right hand through his unkempt hair. A tiny ounce of red settles in his cheek as he waves over to me.

"Kotomi-chan," he smiles. "'Ready to go?"

"Sure," I beam, triggering another blush from him. "Let's go,"

"Hey, hey, hey," Kanna wraps her arms around both our shoulders and pulls us together. Since middle school, the freckles on her cheeks became more pronounced, but despite what a couple people who had rudely pointed this out to her said, I think it actually adds to her charm. "You two love birds can't just fly into the sunset without saying good-bye. You have friends besides each other,"

"I know," I tease Kanna as I slip out of her hold. "It's a shame we don't get to be in the same class."

"It's no big deal," she points her thumb towards the hall to our left. "Class 1-C is just one door away, so if you'd like to talk between classes, I'm right there."

"I'm pretty sure we aren't supposed to leave our classrooms until lunch," I remind her.

"In that case, I'll come to you," she holds up my hand. "I really don't get it, though; you earned a scholarship to this school no sweat. Why don't they just let you cut classes?"

"Technically, I have no records as a student here," I tilt my head. "Besides, even the smartest students can learn something new from a classroom setting. I'm sure I wouldn't ace any tests without taking the class,"

"Yeah, yeah," she runs her ring finger down her nose. "'Can't you take a joke?"

"With you and academics, sometimes it's hard to tell when you're speaking in jest."

She smirks. "That's fair. Now, as for you, Tomoya."

She clenches her right fist. "If you don't treat Kotomi-chan well, I'll give you a piece of my mind."

"H-hey, I've been friends with her longer than you have," he stutters. "Besides, there's no reason I'd randomly start treating her badly."

"I was just making sure you understood," she narrows her eyes. "I love this girl to death, so I won't stand for you making a move on her."

Tomoya raises an eyebrow. "The way you're talking, it sounds like _you_ ' _re_ the one who wants to make a move on her."

"W-what?" Her features scrunch up in befuddlement.

"Kanna-chan," I cross my arms suspiciously. "Is there something you haven't been telling me?"

"NO, of course not!" She breathes fire at Tomoya. "'Look, my point is, don't do anything impolite, alright?"

"Sure, sure," he swats in the air.

"That's all I wanted to hear," she shakes his hand. "Well, I'll see you guys in class."

"Bye," she follows the rest of the line, leaving us in the mostly deserted auditorium.

"'Should we get going?" I break the silence."

"Oh, sure," he nods as we walk down the hallway. Since our departure is later then everyone else's, our classmates have already arrived. We approach our classroom in silence.

"Can I just say Kanna's crazy?"

"I wouldn't call her 'crazy'," I giggle. "She's just eccentric,"

"I don't think Pinkie Pie's quite as spastic," he snarks.

"That's harsh. She's a bit insensitive, but I think she's been a good friend."

"Yeah," he winks. "'Like Kanna said, though; don't take things so seriously."

"Oh, duh," I blush as we carry on in silence. After a couple more seconds of walking, I steal a glance at Tomoya. His face is tilted downwards slightly.

 _I wonder what he's looking at . . . Wait, is he staring at my chest?_

I lock eyes with him. On cue, he turns away, thoroughly flushed.

 _That's . . . awkward._

"Tomoya-kun?"

"Y-yes?" He replies. "What's up?"

"I hadn't thought of it until just now, but um, do you _look_ at me a lot?"

I know how blunt I sound, but I'm not used to this awkwardness. Even as hormones rage in our heads, we've been able to carry conversations with blushing and turning away every five seconds. If we talk about this now, we should be able to work things out.

"W-well," he tugs at his collar. "Only once in a while. I-I guess I find you pretty, I-I mean, I _do_ find you pretty."

He looks awful. I didn't mean to make him so flustered. _Nevertheless, I have to carry on._

"Thanks," I smile the best I can. "I think your handsome too,"

"A-ah," he closes his eyes so he doesn't have to face me. "Thank you,"

I realize we've stopped walking. There's no doubt about it; we have to try and deal with this here and now.

"I'm sorry!" He yells before I have a chance to speak. "I-I didn't mean to make this so awkward. I just couldn't help it. Over break, I'd kinda started to notice you even more than I did before. I-I'm just more conscientious of every move I make."

"I understand," I blink, trying my hardest to keep my calm. "I've been feeling weird too,"

"Really?" He quirks an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure you're the more composed one."

"Just because I'm better at hiding my insecurities, doesn't mean I don't have them," I gaze into his eyes. "I mean, I guess it makes sense that things are awkward now, you know? We've been friends since we were kids, and now, it's the first day of high school. It's different than we were in middle school." I slide my legs together.

"Yeah," he grimaces. "Do you feel kinda weird when you call me 'kun'? 'Cause, I do when I call you 'chan'."

 _That hurt a bit more than I was expecting. Still, I have to be honest_. "I do. It's been such a force of habit for us that until now, we barely even questioned it. But, now that we're in high school, and everyone sees that as such a big deal, it's tough to figure it out."

"It's like, I can't even decide if we're friends, or, something more." His eyes stay hooked on mine. "Are . . . Are we like that?"

A gulp resounds through my throat. Sweat streams down the side of his neck as I try to think of an answer.

"I don't know yet,"

I stroke some of my loose strands of hair back behind my ears. Hesitating slightly, I hold his hand in mine.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see,"

He watches my arm as if I'd infringed an obvious barrier, like I'd sped up when the traffic light flashed red. However, I'm confident I'm making the right choice in approaching him with such a sentimental gesture.

Finally, he smiles and tightens his grip on my hand. "Class is starting. We better get going,"

 _Edited August 13 8:20 AM_


	2. Tomoya's New Perspective

**2: Tomoya's New Perspective**

"Right," I smile, holding Kotomi's hand more confidently than before. "Let's go,"

The hum of the electronic bell buzzes above us. Smirking, I turn my head towards her. "'Looks like we're both delinquents today,"

"No," she shakes her head as she opens the door. "You're still lazy, but I eventually convinced you to start caring about getting to class on time during middle school."

"You can only do so well at sports," I slip into my seat. "I was on track to earn a sports scholarship, but I needed to up my grades if I wanted a chance of getting into a good school. It was tough, but I realized I'd have to buckle down and start paying attention in class." Yawning, I raise an eyebrow towards her, now two seats to the right of my window spot. "It had nothing to do with jealously,"

"I never said that," Kotomi giggles, placing an Ancient History textbook on her desk. "I just think it's denial to say you're a delinquent anymore,"

"You know," I whisper, "just because you said that, I'm gonna burst into a song and dance number in the middle of our homeroom teacher's introduction speech."

"Good morning, class,"

Our teacher approaches the podium with startling precision. He has a finely-tipped nose, and eyes that constantly remain narrow. High cheek bones and a crescent-shaped frown complete his consternating look.

"Good morning, class," he examines a stack of papers held entirely in his right hand's fingers. "I hope you enjoyed winter break, as your first year of high school is going to be _very_ difficult."

 _Joy._ My face sinks. _Another teacher eager to flaunt his authority._

"Middle school may have been a challenge to some of you, but high school is another matter entirely. You will spend three years studying advanced curriculum, whether it be in science, math, history, or foreign languages; each class will be a comprehensive course that paves a road of success for those who wish to head to college."

 _What about those who don't?_ I sneer. _Not all of us are aces._

"Many have crumbled under the weight of this enormous pressure." He tapped his finger hard on the side of the podium. "But, I am confident that all of you will perform well. While I have to make you aware of the challenges Hikarizaki High School will throw your way so you don't go in half-cocked, I also want to remind you that everyone in this room has an equal opportunity to succeed."

My eyes drift to the ground.

"I believe any student who works their hardest can achieve what they wish to accomplish; not just in the classroom, but in the real world as well. I wish you all the best of luck this semester," he peeks at his attendance sheet. "Now, I'll read off each of your last names. When yours is called, stand up and take a moment to introduce yourselves."

Once homeroom period ends, I continue my conversation with Kotomi.

"That was a bit more inspirational than I thought,"

"Not all teachers are selfish tyrants, Tomoya-kun," she winks.

Flushed, I smother my right cheek in my palm. "Of all of the teachers I've seen this has to be the first who isn't." I look out the window. "It's funny, though,"

She watches me with concern. "What?"

"I worked my butt off trying to get into a good school during middle school, and it paid off. My grades were just good enough to reach the minimum requirements for a sports scholarship. Not only that, my coach said I might possibly the best basketball player on this school's team."

I spin my left arm. "Specifically, he pointed out my left hand was really strong. He said it was a blessing and a curse, though; shooting could turn into an exercise in unpredictably if I don't fix it."

"Yes?" She senses there's more to this than I'm letting on.

"You, meanwhile, worked as hard as you ever did. When you graduated from middle school, your grades were so high, the two best schools in the country offered you scholarships. You had the money, so you could have gone to either of those schools."

I glance at the emblem on my uniform, reading "1974". "Hikarizaki is certainly prestigious, but it's not as high quality as those. The only convenience going here grants you is location, and I doubt you'd care about having to travel far away as long as you had the resources to do it. So, why—"

"Two reasons," she interrupts, flipping to the correct page of our first period Ancient History class's textbook. "One, my parents' research group is based near here. When I got the chance to see the research team test the prototype to the dimension-traversing device, I took the opportunity to read through the schematics for the device, and the theorems the team were basing said schematics on. Once I became well-acquainted with them, by the time I was in eight-grade, I was actively participating in the second part of creating the device; creating a remote device that could send footage of alternate worlds to us. By the end of this week, we should be testing the final version of the machine. Had I not been here, it may never have happened.

"The second reason is more important," she beamed thoughtfully. "If I went to another school, it'd mean we'd rarely get to see each other. Worse, all that work you'd done to keep up with me would have been for nothing."

I stare at the palm of my hand, eyes watering. "That's not fair . . . Even though I worked my hardest, I ended up a burden. You could've accomplished a lot more if—"

"Hey," she hurries over to her seat and grabs both of my shoulders. After a few seconds, I turn my head up to meet with her eyes. "I made this decision completely of my accord. I can accomplish all the things I want to through this school. It may sound just to feel bad about tying me down but bringing it up now serves no purpose but to feel bad for yourself."

I wipe the water from my eyes.

"From the day my parents died, you've never stopped helping me through my recovery. The least I could do is let us spend the rest of our high school days together."

Hesitating slightly, she gives me a peck on the cheek. I instinctively reach my hand to feel where her lips were but I stop myself a moment before.

 _She's right . . . It's dumb of me to feel sorry for herself. Why am I being whiny about her kindness?_

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "I shouldn't have let myself get in a bad mood,"

"No problem," she blinks. "Just try not to do it again, okay?"

"Sure," I stand up from my seat. "So you mentioned the project's all but finished. Do you have high hopes it'll work?"

"My guardian is confident it will," she brings a hand to her chin. "The only thing concerning me is project lead, Dr. Hiromu Hideki. My guardian told me he's always been cheerful and enigmatic, but he's been acting weirder than normal lately. While he insisted all previous milestones be reported to the public, he's insisted closed mouths in the time leading up to this final test. In addition to this, I've overheard murmurs from conversations he has in secret with some of his co-workers in his office. Nishimura-san has confirmed he hasn't been involved in any of those discussions."

Fear washes over my face. _Not this again._ "Kotomi-chan . . ."

"I'm not putting any weight behind it yet," she clarifies, hands up. "I just needed to vent; there's something Dr. Hiromu isn't telling us."

"'Seems so," I shrug. "The question is how serious the secret he's keeping is."

After first period, my face falls onto the desk with a thud. I'd forgotten how difficult it was to stay awake during class over the course of winter break. My eyes begin to flutter closed.

"Okazaki-san,"

A strict voice above me disturbs my slumber. A dark-eyed female student with short hair who I recognize as the Class Representative eyes me intently. "I will not tolerate delinquent behavior in this class. Only nap during this break if you're sure you can keep yourself awake during lessons."

"I'm not a delinquent," I point to Kotomi. "Ask her and you'll see,"

She rolls her eyes and sighs. "I'm surprised a close friend of hers like you hasn't picked up her better habits."

"You should've seen me in middle school," I crumple onto my desk. "I'll do my best to stay awake.

She nods, a skeptical look on her face. "That's all I ask."

The school day drones on painfully slow. I manage to keep myself awake during each period due to my best efforts. By the end of the day, I'm eagerly anticipating my first meet with the basketball club. I part ways with Kotomi at the school entrance before I dash to the gymnasium. Because of her obligations to help put the last touch on her parents' research project, she elected not to join any after school clubs.

I burst through the door to meet the eyes of five other players and the coach, a burly chested man with a well-trimmed mustache and beard. Smiling at my arrival, he rushes up to greet me.

"Tomoya-san," he greets me with a firm handshake. "Nice to meet you. My name is Miturashi Yamato."

"A pleasure, sir." I grin.

"I've heard you got a lot of talent and skill, so I better see that show on the court." He winks. "Now, you're a few minute early. Once the rest of the guys get here, I'm gonna kick us off with an inspiring speech. Once that's done, we'll spend our hour running through as many scrimmages as we can in the time allotted. I'll have you guys rotating positions each time so I get a feel for who's good at what."

"Got it, sir,"

"Until then," he motioned to the group at the other side of the basketball court. "Socialize; get to know your teammates, otherwise, you'll never learn to trust them on the field."

Nodding, I sprint over to greet them. Three of them pass balls to each other in a simple catching drill. One stands away from the others. He has long black hair with eyes to match, and a determined look on his face.

"What you staring at?"

One of the average joes tossing balls asks me.

"I-I'm sorry," I turn to face him. "Okazaki Tomoya,"

"Hatake Taiuchi," He shifts his scarlet-colored eyes to the player I was watching. "That's Hanzo Yuichi. He's come in as the best middle school player in the country."

 _That good, huh?_ "What team did he play for?"

"The Fighting Dreamers," he grins. "'You played them before?"

They weren't in our division, but memory of them returns. Their star offensive player was a guy who looked almost exactly like Yuichi does now with flowing dark hair and teeth that were constantly clenched. We only faced his group twice and lost miserably both times.

"He's that guy?" I whisper.

"You remember, huh?" Laughing, he puts a hand on his hip. "The first thing he did was walk up to the coach and _promise_ he'd earn the top offensive spot. I've heard your pretty good, but that guy could wipe the floor with you."

He shoves me forward. "Why don't you two get to know each other?"

 _Might as well._ I sigh as I approach the prodigy. He eyed me with precision and focus I'd never seen from someone my age.

 _Well, besides Kotomi-chan of course._

"Hey, I'm—"

"Your stance," his eyes darted to my feet. "It gives away your strength."

 _This guy sounds like he was ripped straight from a shonen manga._

"When you sprint, you lead with your right foot, indicating your right handed." He narrows his eyes. "From what I remember from our games, you aggressively pursued anyone with the ball until the opponent gave. You were willing to work with your teammates, but only after you had the ball. Until then, any tactic was fair game. Had you been aware of your partners' abilities, your team would have been performed much better."

 _You haven't realized how much I've grown since then. Still, I better play along, or I'll reveal where I get my confidence._ "You talk big," I smirk cockily, adding to the atmosphere. "Let's see whether you'll be talking smack once I waste you on the court,"

A couple gasps erupt from my side. _What was so daring about that? It has to be the dumbest thing I've ever said. Are they really that desperate for drama . . .?  
_

"That's all I ask," he smiles psychotically. "When that whistle blows, I'll show you what it means to be a prodigy."

 _Edited August 12 9:06 PM_


	3. Work in the Lab

**3: Work in the Lab**

 _4:00 PM_

"Here it is,"

Tomohiro Yagumi, one of the three men who had informed me of my parents' death that day, leads me into the testing chambers to give me a glimpse at the completed transmitter. Using the technology Dr. Hiromu had originally employed to break through dimensional barriers, the device is powerful enough to send wireless signals to hundreds of dimensions at once. This will allow the camera the "guinea pig" will use to have a way of telling us what the new world looks like.

"Hm . . ." I ponder the long, thin cylinder. "It looks like a short telephone pole."

"Indeed," he smiles. "With it, we'll be able to tap into the receivers inside the camera's hardware and have the person on the other side send the video and pictures back to us."

"We should be convinced," I nod, scratching my chin with my hand. "I'm not sure about the public, though . . ."

"What do you mean?" He asks, arms crossed.

"Faking pictures is easy," I look him in the eye. "I wouldn't be surprised if this other world looks a lot like ours. Hikarizaki may appear almost exactly the same as it did here."

"Perhaps," he tilts his head in thought. "But, at the public demonstration, they'll see the man disappear."

"That's true, but magicians can stage a disappearing act; people are stubbornly skeptical that way."

"I can see your point," he chuckles softly as he knocks the sides of the transmitter. "But I think most people are eager to find there's more to life than what we can say; it won't take much to convince people we're doing a good thing here."

"That's the other problem," I lean against a metal chair next to a small table on the right side of the room. "'Last time, all we sent through the portal was a guinea pig . . . a literal one. This time, we'll be sending a human being. While we're confident that person will make it out alive on the trip over, he won't have a way to come back."

"Yeah," he escapes my gaze, favoring the cold, hollow floor beneath us. "But that's the nature of science; to advance, sometimes, you need people to make sacrifices and take risks. People have been doing that all throughout history: Benjamin Franklin, Christopher Columbus, Sir Francis Drake, great men have approached the barriers of what man supposedly can and can't do, and through their risk-taking, proved they're not as stringent as we thought they were."

"Two of those figures you mentioned weren't scientists,"

"Perhaps not," his hand ruffles through his auburn hair. "But, they still disregarded life and limb to prove their peers wrong. This is what Ishihara-san has decided to do."

"Tatsuya-san?" I flash him a questioning look. "Don't we need him?"

"Don't get me wrong, Dr. Hiromu desired a different man be found to traverse the barrier, but he was the first by far to volunteer." He shakes his head sadly. "He couldn't stop talking about how 'awesome' it would be to find your doppelganger in another dimension."

"'Sounds just like him," I cast a weary glance at the portal generator. "I just hope he makes it through alright,"

"Hey," he nudges me by the chin. "I'm always worrying about how this whole thing will turn out."

He straightens his posture and strides to the exit. "But, we can't hesitate now; not when we're so close to fulfilling your parents' dream."

He chances a look at the lab coat I'd been provided when Dr. Hiromu considered me fit to be on the project's staff. He paid particular notice to the large, rectangular glasses over my eyes. "You look nice by the way; that stance you take reminds me a lot of your father."

"Thank you," I bow, adjusting my glasses on the way up. "I heard that from Oji-san as well,"

"Yeah, he's a sweet guy," he says distantly. "I'm sure it took some time adjusting to him being around though, huh?"

"It did," I flinch at the memory of the first day he showed up at my door. "He's been kind to me through it all, though; that's all I could ask for."

"I'm glad," he opens the door leading back to the office room. "I know I don't really have a way of knowing this, but I'm sure your parents are smiling down on you for being so strong. You haven't once stopped working hard, and I don't see what other expectation they could possibly expect you to fulfill."

It had taken a long time, but, I'd finally started to accept that shortly after I started directly contributing to the dimensional experiment. For all the pain I'd gone through, I'm still able to give my all every day. There have been pitfalls and hurdles to getting there, but by remembering their happy eyes looking down on me, it's much easier to get up from those times. Just the small satisfaction of knowing they're both in Heaven, content with how much I've done, is enough to put me at ease.

"'Shall we go?"

"Sure," I run up to him. He frowns as I make my way there.

"I just remembered; you only need those glasses for reading. Why don't you take them off?"

"There's always some relevant document lying around that you haven't read yet," I laugh. "Have you seen all the excess paper people leave on their desks?"

Dr. Tomohiro grimaces. "It's not difficult to take them off and put them back on; I'd say stick them in your pocket. If you don't, it'll strain your eyes."

"I guess your right," I gingerly slip them off my face and place them in my right pocket. From his office space, my guardian approaches the two of us.

"Good afternoon Tomohiro-san, Kotomi-chan," he stares at the door behind us, then turns back to me. "So, you've seen the completed transmitter? Have any thoughts?"

"I didn't expect it to look quite as compact as it did," I admit. "But otherwise, it's about as I expected."

"I'm glad," he closes his eyes thoughtfully. "How was school?"

"Pretty good," I say, thinking back. "I'm not confused on any of the material they taught me,"

"I hope not,"

Dr. Hiromu announces his presence, walking in from his office door on the right wall. "If they had a subject difficult enough to stump _you_ , I'd hate to see the grades of Hikarizaki's students."

I blush as the other three share a good laugh. "It is one of the best schools in the country," I defend.

"Yes," Dr. Hirmou smirks. "But you're one of the best _students_ in the country."

 _I guess I can't argue with that logic._ I shrug defeated. "What's today's order of business?"

"In just a minute, the testing division is going to review the schematic of the completed transmitter," he explains. "I'm fairly certain we've done the best we can to ensure the desired outcome, but I don' want any careless mistakes sabotaging an otherwise smooth-sailing development process."

"I agree," my guardian continues in his baritone. "In the days leading up to the official testing, we need to be certain things will go off as planned. If they don't, we could spend weeks trying to figure out what's wrong."

"Yes," Dr. Hiromu says. "We've taken great measures to ensure this day would come. We can't afford any mishaps."

"Shall I call them over?" Dr. Tomohiro asks, scanning the office desks for people.

"Absolutely,"

Dr. Tomohiro claps his hands. "Excuse me; if you're in the testing division, please come with me."

Several stood up from their office space. After grabbing a blue schematics sheet from his office, Dr. Hiromu leads the party into the testing chambers. Among the partygoers are my guardian, Dr. Hunan Kariya, and me. Dr. Tomohiro only showed me the final product because he had a free moment; he's normally in the R&D division.

Once inside, Dr. Hiromu gives us a brief overlay of the device's functions, then slaps down the schematics sheet on the table.

"The one concerning part of the bits of testing we've done with the device so far," he says, pointing to a frequency monitor on the sheet. "Is that whoever's behind the controls must attend to its needs at all times. Staying on the same frequency with a signal as small as the camera is not as easy as it sounds. While previous tests have shown the connection can be kept consistently, it takes a lot of work on the part of the one keeping it steady."

"That can't really be avoided," Dr. Hunan placed her hands on her hips. "We can't just make dimensional space less difficult to navigate; we're dealing with a concept that, just a few years ago, was entirely abstract."

My guardian sniffs. "Perhaps so; but maybe, with some fine-tuning, we could make the device more powerful."

"Do you know how much power we have in that thing already?" A man with a thin nose and broad shoulders says. "If we give it anymore, they'll be an overload."  
Dr. Hiromu nods. "Perhaps, we can improve the mechanism that adjusts the frequency; make it so it's easier to use?"

"Part of what makes the machine unwieldy is how exact the coordinates are. So, maybe if we make the coordinates it tracks less precise, thus making a twirl of the knobs that control the desired frequency less difficult to control, we're more likely to make contact with the camera."

"That does make sense," Dr. Hunan smiles. "You really are bright,"

"That sounds like a great idea," the thin-nosed man says skeptically. "But, aren't we trying to get this thing ready for testing by Saturday? How are we gonna do that if we have to revise the console?"

"If done incorrectly, those adjustments could take a sizable portion of time." Dr. Hiromu narrows his eyes. "However, it's worth the risk if it means a more likely chance of success. Once Ichinose-san's changes are implemented, the machine should be easier to man. Besides, if a mistake is isn't made, we wouldn't really be losing any time."

A smirk curled up his face. "Let's do it,"

 _Edited August 13 7:48 AM_


	4. Out of Breath

**4: Out of Breath**

 _4:05_

"How?" _  
_

I ask, out of breath, sweat pouring down my face as I make my way home.

"Where did he learn to move like that . . .?"

I brace myself against a telephone pole. "I thought I was stronger than that . . . Who knew I would be no match for him?"

During the practice sessions, I kept up pretty well with most of the other players. I intercepted balls, made shots, and effectively aided my side of the field in scoring points.

Except when he was on the opposite squad.

Sometimes, it was effortless. Without warning, he'd steal the ball from me and carry on as if nothing had happened. The first time he'd scored, he goaded me with a challenge.

" _The only way you're getting this ball past me," he delivered another cocky grin, "is to pass the ball."_

My pride had been wounded. Ever since I got into middle school, I'd been working harder than I ever at basketball. I may have had natural talent, but if I was going to get into a prestigious school mostly on a sports recommendation, I'd need to be the cream of the crop.

Sure, I wasn't the best built for the job. I can tell just by looking at him that guy's a few inches taller than me. Even so, I thought my skill should be able to make up for my shorter height.

Part of me really hopes height was the only reason he beat me so easily on the court.

After his challenge, I promised never to pass the ball. I needed to show that jerkass I could get the thing past him. He wasn't going to insinuate I had no skill compared to him and get away with it.

But over that 45-minute period, it happened again and again and again . . .

I'd get the ball, try and outmaneuver him, and get beat. Sometimes he'd take the ball from me, sometimes he'd interrupt a shot.

The end result was always the same.

I lost. He won.

When practice sessions finally ended, Coach Miturashi sat me down on the bench. Out of punishment for defying the fact that basketball was a team sport, he made me first back-up to the shooting guard.

" _I respect what you've accomplished, Okazaki," he said as I lowered my head in response to his verdict, "but just because ya did well in middle school, doesn't mean your tactics'll work here. I learned that lesson today."  
_

 _He patted my right shoulder. "If ya learn the ropes, learn to respect your teammates as equals, I'll probably give you the starting job."_

 _I looked into his eyes.  
_

 _"You have the natural ability," he smiled earnestly. "But if ya wanna reach that level, you can't get hung up on personal grudges. Sometimes, the right attitude can be the difference between winning and losing."_

 _Damn it._ I whacked the side of my forehead. _How could I let him psyche me out like that? Now, the coach thinks I'm an idiot._

I take a deep breath and let all of it out in a sigh. _But what if I'm too stuck-up to take Yuichi's advice? After seeing what he did on the court, he's gotta know what he's doing._

I shield my eyes as I stare into the sun. _Maybe the key is humbling myself. If only it was as easy as it sounds . . ._

I take the team syllabus out of my coat pocket. This week, the coach wants us to focus on various drills that serve to test the strengths and weaknesses of players. If I do well in those, he should probably regain some trust in my abilities. Our first game in the season is a week from now against the Ikebukuro Giants. As Taiuchi unnecessarily exposited, their players are among the tallest in the high school leagues. Traditionally, their coaches have been over-exuberant fanatics who will only consider players if they reach a certain height. All others are turned down, no exceptions.

" _If what I've heard about them is true," a devilish grin sprouted on Taiuchi's face, "even Yuichi might have trouble anyways."  
_

 _Great._ I groan. _If Taiuchi is as well-informed as he sounds, we're in for a_ long _match._

I'd like to drop my school stuff back at home to be sure I don't lose anything. But I'm not ecstatic at the thought of crossing paths with my dad again.

In the past few years, he hasn't really been any worse than normal; on the contrary, he's been mildly supportive ever since he found out I made it to Hikarizaki High.

But, there have been a couple moments that still scare me even now. One of them was in my last year of middle school when I'd come back from my best game of the year. On my way home, my coach had informed me I'd been accepted on a sports scholarship into the school.

I was tired, but, still happy. In no condition to run, I jogged back to my house.

Although often drunk, my dad had off-days when he'd be oddly alert despite his intoxicated state. As I entered the premises, he gave me a frightening glare I could only recall seeing from him once or twice before.

Intimidated, I slipped off my shoes in a hurry and rushed upstairs.

He kept me down with a single word.

" _Stop,"_

 _I slowly turned my head towards him. The ambiguous intent in his eyes compelled me to stay. If he was in an average mood, I'd have no qualms brushing past him._

" _Your shoes," he inclined his head to the cubbies a couple yards from the door. "Put them back,"  
_

 _I hesitated, paralyzed in fear. He narrowed his eyes and asked again._

" _Put them back,_ now _."_

 _Gradually, the life came back in my body. I wasn't going to pitch a fight, not when he was in a mood like this. So I picked up my shoes, put them back in their place, and walked quietly up the stairs. It took all my strength not to break out in a run._

 _I opened the door to my room, then slammed it behind me. My chest rose up and down, my head overheated from the stress._

" _What was that?" I asked myself then. "What was that look in his eyes . . . Was he—?"  
_

 _I choked on the words. I gagged on the thought for what felt like hours before I recovered._

" _Was he . . . going to kill me?"_

"Ah!"

I fall on my hands and knees, gasping for breath. The exercise coupled with reliving the event is too much for me. _If this keeps up any longer . . . I'll puke._

I narrowly avoid this prospect. After reassuming an ordinary breathing pattern, I pick myself up from the ground. My eyes grow distant as I glance towards the downtown area.

 _I could head over to Nagisa's place . . . I'm sure some food could cheer me up right now._

Hopeful, I start to walk to the bakery.

 _Wait._

I stop dead in my tracks.

 _The old man . . . He's a good guy, but he'll probe me for what's wrong. I don't wanna look like a whiny kid, especially in front of him._

I wipe perspiration from my forehead. _I was so upset, I didn't even bother to take a shower after practice. Besides, my school bag is getting heavy._

Reluctantly, I drag my despairing self all the way to my house.


	5. Back to a Daily Norm

**5: Back to a Daily Norm**

 _Tuesday, April 9 2000_

My eyes fly open. Half-asleep, I wrap my right hand around the cell phone which lies doormat on an adjacent dresser drawer and flip it open.

 _7:30; plenty of time to get ready._

I slip on my school uniform, stick my phone in my pocket, and jog downstairs. After breakfast, I can pack my school supplies. Thanks to an evening mostly free of distractions, I was able to complete my homework assignments for today and tomorrow. The teachers at Hikarizaki haven't thrown me any curve balls yet.

My work at the lab went on for three and a half hours yesterday. After deciding to implement a broader measurement spectrum to the control panel, the team got right to work on designing it. Some of the ideas were a bit too complicated for me to grasp, but I was able to follow the discussion for the most part. By the end, Dr. Hiromu was sure we'd have the revised machine done by Saturday evening.

When I enter the kitchen, my guardian is whiffing up a set of pickled vegetables, topped with miso and soy sauce, for the three of us. Hasegawa-san furiously dusts the grandfather clock in the other room, cheeks red.

"Good morning, Kotomi-chan," my guardian smiles.

"Good morning," I take another glance at my housekeeper. "Is she still riled up?"

"Well, she may be lazy, but your parents told me long ago that she takes the specifics of her job very seriously," he casts a sympathetic look towards the woman in her mid-60s. "For her, sending you off to high school every day is like asking you to walk through a mine field every morning."

Giggling, I look back at her. "I tried to tell her there was nothing to worry about it,"

"It'll take more than one conversation to convince her you've got things under control," he sighs, "she doesn't completely trust Tomoya-san, and you've been friends with him for years."

"Well, that I can understand more. He is a high school _boy_ after all,"

I steal another glance at my anxious caretaker before turning back to my guardian. "I trust Tomoya, but even guys like him can get their heads in the clouds,"

"Too true," he says, setting a plate on three ends of the table. "Too true."

I eat my meal at an ordinary pace. My guardian digs through his meal quickly. He's always been a bit conscientious about getting to work on time. Hasegawa-san, meanwhile, hardly touches his food.

After a few minutes, I've finished the meal. It's still not as good as the home-cooked meals my parents used to make, but he's certainly become a better cook over the years. As I rush up the stairs, I catch a glimpse of my housekeeper's outstretched hand.

"Is something wrong, Hasegawa-san?" I ask.

" . . . Never mind," she shakes her head. "I'll tell you on your way out,"

Shrugging, I jog to my room and pack my school bag. As I exit my room, I hear my guardian head out to work before I can head down.

"I'll see you later," I wave to my housekeeper as I head out the door.

"Wait, Ichinose-sama,"

She stops me in my tracks. "Hasegawa-san? What's wrong?"

"I want you to be careful out there!" She frowns. "Especially around boys; they're like a pack of wolves when they get to high school."

"I wouldn't worry," I beam mischievously. "None have taken a bit of me yet,"

"Th-that's exactly what I'm worried about!" Sighing, she leans back against the wall. "I'm getting older, Ichinose-sama; it just concerns me that you're aware of these dangers but don't act any more cautious because of them."

"That's simple; I've known Tomoya-kun since I was a child. If there was something about him I really didn't like or trust, we wouldn't be such good friends."

I take a couple steps down the driveway. "Besides, even if I did encounter some 'young rascal', he'd be sure to take 'em down a notch."

I pick up my speed to a jog. "See ya later,"

"That's what I'm worried about, though," she calls out. "What if that boy _is_ a rascal?"

Winking, I wave at her as I continue at the same pace towards school. About halfway day, I slow down to a speed-walk. My height's about average, but I've never been terribly fit.

Near the front entrance, Kanna gives me a friendly wave. "Hi, Kotomi-chan,"

"Hi, Kanna-chan," she wraps me up in a hug as I head to the front door. Once finished, she leads me through the door.

"So, how was work in that boring ol' science lab?"

"Interesting," I smirk. "We discussed how to alter our control panel's measuring apparatus so that the system would—"

"Stop, stop," she waves her arms back and forth. "I'll take your word for it; you had a good time."

"Thank you,"

She leans her head in close to my ear. "How are things between you and _Tomoya-kun_?"

"Well . . ." I shoo her away while I mull the question over. "We decided yesterday that we're just going to take our relationship kind of like we always had and see where it goes."

"'Sounds boring," she exaggerates a yawn. "'Looks like things are basically the same between you two, huh?"

My face flushes bright red. "Not exactly; we did hold hands yesterday—"

"WHAT?!" She shouts, drawing the attention of a few loitering students. "Make up your minds, already. If you're not dating, then why are you doing all this lovey-dovey stuff?"

"'Like I said, we're trying to work things out," _This made a lot more sense when Tomoya-kun and I discussed it yesterday._ "We're not going to commit to a relationship until we're sure we want one; what we did was kind of like practice-flirting."

"I didn't know you were the kinda girl who did stuff like that," she blinks thoughtfully. "Ah, well, you learn something new every day."

She points to the stairs. "We better get going, though; I wouldn't wanna make the smartest girl in school late for class."

"Sure," I follow her up the stairs. "You know, I've realized you talk an awful lot about romance. Do you have someone you like?"

"Huh?" _It's not that personal of a question._

"Hmm . . . no one in particular." Suddenly, a dreamy glow emits from her pupils. "But I do have the privilege of sharing a class with the hottest guy in school?"

"Who's that?"

"Hanzo Yuichi!" She squeals at a gratingly high-pitch. "He's got this really long dark hair, and this killer smile that just blows me away! He's such an ace at basketball that he's thinking about it, like, constantly. I've heard from rumors that the teachers are apparently upset his grades suffer a little for it."

 _That's right . . . He's probably on the same squad as Tomoya-kun. I wonder how well he did during practice yesterday._ "I see,"

"Yep," she claps her hands together and lets her mouth hang open. "I'm SO lucky . . ."

The electronic bell rings above us. "Whoops, better get going. See ya later, Kotomi-chan!"

"Bye," I see her off as she slips into her classroom. I walk into mine, taking my assigned seat two chairs horizontally from him.

"Hi, Tomoya-kun," I whisper as the homeroom teacher takes the podium. He waves but only after a second or two with no response except red cheeks.

 _Right . . . It's kinda awkward to call someone you're not dating 'kun' . . . It might be a good idea to stop that._

Once homeroom period ends, I greet him once again. "How did basketball practice go yesterday?"

I can tell I hit a sore spot. His eyes darken, and his head gravitates to a nearby window.

 _Darn it._ "What happened?"

"I acted like an idiot," he stares up at the ceiling. "There was this guy named Yuichi who thought he was hot-stuff, so he taunted me about my abilities. I tried to prove him wrong all throughout practice, but it damaged my ability to play well. As punishment, the coach made me a back-up for the point guard."

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "I'm sure you can get back to a starting position, though."

"The coach thinks I can," he smiles, regaining some of the enthusiasm I know him best for. "We're working on dribbling and passing drills today, so I should be able to show the coach I can be a team player."

Tomoya's brow furrows as he notices something out of the corner of his eye. I follow his gaze to the seat where the class representative sits. Realizing she's been spotted, she turns away.

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

"She looks . . . familiar somehow." He meets my gaze again. "What's her name?"

"Hanzo. Hanzo Yuki; why would you—"

Tomoya's gaze rests on her momentarily. "'Think they're siblings?"

"Definitely," I nod. "Kanna-chan described Hanzo Yuichi to me just a moment again; they look very similar."

"I wonder why she was so interested in what we had to say . . . "

"It only makes sense she'd be interested," I question him. "We were talking about her brother after all."

He sighs. "Yeah, but, that wasn't it. I can't quite figure out what, but there was something else in her eyes . . ."


	6. A Shot at Redemption

**6: A Shot at Redemption**

First period comes and goes, and my mind is still on Hanzo Yuki's eyes. I can't help but notice when someone appears so distraught at the mere mention of a family member.

So, before second period, I walk up to the girl with hair black as ebony. Hearing my footsteps, she turns to address me.

"Okazaki-san," she bows politely. "I'm glad to see you keeping active,"

"'Wish I felt the same," I chuckle, putting a hand on my hip. "'Forgive me if it sounds like I'm prying, but, you seemed kinda upset when I mentioned your brother earlier. What—"

"Second period's coming soon," she narrows her eyes. "You better get back to your seat."

"But—"

"If you think you know what's going on, you're sorely mistaken," she crosses her arms. "Besides, involving yourself in strangers' business because you're as presumptuous with them as you are your best friends is rude and judgmental. Assuming there is an issue between us, how would someone I've barely met know what to do with that situation?"

 _Ouch._ I pull away from her. _Not that I blame her totally. She's got a point . . ._

"Sorry," I lower my gaze. "I'll head back to my seat,"

"Thank you," with a flourish, she sat back in her seat. As she filed paper work pertaining to her job as a class representative, she didn't look my way once.

"Tomoya-k-?" Kotomi catches herself as she glances back and forth from me to the angered class representative. "What happened?"

"I was stupid," I sigh, falling back into my seat. "I wanted to figure out why she was so upset at her brother, so I asked her right out. She called me out for trying to act like a counselor to someone I barely know, then sent me off."

"That was insensitive," Kotomi frowns. "You can't just expect people to bear their heart to you automatically; it's just not how it works."

"What are you getting at?" I inquire earnestly. "I was just trying to help her out; she shouldn't have gotten so upset."

"For one thing, she didn't even know you noticed her." Kotomi sighs. "Maybe, she would've been more polite if she said something when you were around, but you acted like you knew exactly what she was thinking before she said anything about it."

She brings her hand to her chin, trying to conjure up a scenario in her mind. "Picture this; you got lost while chasing a butterfly and ended up in my backyard."

"This story sounds familiar . . ."

"Exactly," she breathes in, then presses on. "Now, I'm not sure if you did, but I was feeling rather thoughtful when you happened upon my parents' garden. If the first thing you said was, 'You look sad, what's wrong', would that have made much an impression?"

"Well . . . We hadn't ever met before," I say, grasping at straws. "I talked with Yuki just yesterday."

"You didn't really talk about each other, though," she explains. "Instead, you went straight to the personal things. That's something you can't do in a relationship."

"'Point taken," I follow up my admittance with muttering. "'Especially considering my own experience with family,"

Before she could respond, I recover in the blink of an eye. _No point in getting a bad mood when I'm the one at fault._ "'Though, if I had said that back then, I think you would've forgiven me; I was a kid after all."

Giggling, she looks at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Honestly, I would've felt happy if you said something like that."

"Really?" My eyes flicker in surprise.

"Yes," my gaze drifts to the floor. "But only because no one my age had really bothered to ask me something like that. Because of my family name, a lot of kids probably would've been willing to talk to me, but I was too content with my own thoughts to worry about that much. I had my family, and I had my books; what else could I ask for?"

She watches a crow zip across the outside air. "Still, sometimes before I went to bed, I'd kneel down before my bed, and ask God to find a friend who'd be willing to talk to me first."

Kotomi beams brightly, her dazzling eyes refracting the rays from the nearby sun. "It took a little bit of time, but He did answer my prayer."

I blush and shift my head away from her. "Yeah . . . I think so, too,"

Recognizing the awkward air, she points me to the Class Representative. "Now, you need to apologize for what you said to her."

 _Joy._ "What if she doesn't take it well?"

"I'm afraid you can't help that," Kotomi looks at Yuki again. "You did pry into her personal life with no provocation; it's unlikely she'll be receptive."

"'Let me guess; 'regardless, apologizing to her as soon as possible is the best thing you could do', right?"

"You hit the proverbial nail on the metaphorical head," she holds both my shoulders in her hands. "Now, go make things right."

 _Easy for you to say._ I moan, lurking over to the Class Representative's seat. _If I try to talk to her, she's going to rip my head off and beat my limp body with it._

 _Still, I have to do it._

I start to notice as I take the journey to her seat step by step that she doesn't acknowledge my appearance. Even when I reach the left border of her desk, she remains engrossed in her paper work.

"Excuse me," I recite as respectfully as I can. "Hanzo-san?"

She glares at me with eyes that show she's eager to begin my decapitation. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to . . . apologize for my earlier behavior," I bow. "I was out of line asking something like that. I hope someday you can forgive me."

She eyes me with interest for a few moments. Maybe it's a bit foolhardy to believe she'll accept my apology, but a guy can dream, can't he?

"Fine," she snaps. "Just, don't mention it again, alright?"

I sigh thankfully. "Absolutely; thanks for tolerating this."

"Don't mention it," she frowns. "Now, get going,"

"Alright,"

The situation eerily resembles the one from just a moment ago; I take a look back at her, and she refuses to acknowledge me with even the slightest glance.

"See?" Kotomi nods approvingly. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was kind of intimidating," I admit, slumping down in my seat. "But it was worth it; thanks for getting me to go through with it."

"It was no trouble at all,

 _11:55 AM_

Class goes by swiftly. Kotomi and I carry on with our casual conversations, carefully remembering to avoid using our preferred suffixes. It seems I'm not the only one who thinks high school may be too public of a venue to refer to each other so personally in.

 _It'd make them think we were dating, or something like that. Though . . . would that really be such a bad thing?_

On our way to the cafeteria, we run into a meek, auburn-haired girl from Class 1-C greets us with a subdued wave. Kotomi and I imitate her gesture.

"Hey, Nagisa,"

"Hi guys," she smiles. "If you don't mind, could I follow you guys to the lunchroom?"

I can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. After all, how could things progress in a positive direction if someone else was around?

 _That sounds weird. Get your head out of the gutter, Tomoya._

"Of course you can," Kotomi jogs over to Nagisa and holds both her hands. "Let's go,"

As I follow the pair to the cafeteria, I couldn't help but notice how funny this imagery is. Just a year ago, I never would have thought it possible that Kotomi initiate conversation in a relationship. Now, she's playing that role quite naturally with Nagisa.

 _It's funny how many things you can miss when lost in thought . . ._

"Nagisa-chan," Kotomi stares into her eyes. "Do you have a favorite class?"

"Well, to tell you the truth, all of it's pretty hard," she laughs, shielding her upper lip with her index finger. "But, if I had to pick one, it'd probably be 'Ancient Western History'."

"That's one of my favorites too," Kotomi says. "Do you plan on joining an after school club? I would normally, but I work in the lab with my guardian in the afternoon."

"Hm . . . Well," Nagisa watches the creases in her palms silently. "I kinda wanted to try drama."

"Drama?" That strikes me as odd. Why would someone as introverted as her want to get involved in theater. "That didn't hit me as your thing,"

"I know, it's odd, right?" She smiles awkwardly. "To be honest, I don't know anything about drama, so I'm not sure the club would be willing to take me in."

 _She . . . Doesn't know anything about drama . . .?_ I'm too aghast to speak for more than a minute. Kotomi and Nagisa watch my paralyzed body with concern.

 _Come on . . . Snap out of the deer in the headlights look . . . Focus._ "Well, I think it's unfair to yourself and the club members if you give up before you try,"  
Kotomi looks relieved I didn't actually have a heart attack. Nagisa's reaction is more comical; she nearly jumps out of her skin after my delayed reaction.

"Not to sound rude, but . . . Is that something you do often?"

 _No._ "Yes," Kotomi giggles. "For someone who looks so handsome, Tomoya can be really weird sometimes."

 _Is that a backhanded compliment or an insult?  
_

"I don't know," Nagisa tilts her head. "He looks pretty normal to me."

"Thank you," I bow. "At least someone here knows what they're talking about."

Kotomi shoots me a glare as I continue. "But as I was saying, there's no reason you shouldn't ask them if you can join. So what if you don't think they'll accept you; worst case scenario, you're back where you started."

"That's true . . . " Nagisa clenches her fists. "I can do that."

"Good," I grin. "Now, take that confidence with you into auditions."

"Alright!" She gives me a thumbs up as we walk into the cafeteria. The sight depresses me.

I only delayed us a minute or so, and already, the room is smothered with high school students. Every nook and cranny seems to feature some person either trying to get food, or slip into one last empty seat.

 _This is gonna be difficult . . ._

"Hey, Okazaki-san,"

Taiuchi takes a hold on my shoulder. "If you're free, we've got an empty seat for the freshman basketball players you could slip into; I bought you lunch."

"Um, thanks," I try to move closer to the girls. "But—"

"You can sit with them if you like,"

My body turns in surprise. "Really?"

"Sure," she indicates Nagisa and herself. "We'll be fine, right, Nagisa-chan?"

"That's right," she looks my way. "I don't mind you going on ahead, either."

"Al-alright," I awkwardly let out, turning back to Taiuchi. "'Lead the way,"

"Of course," he pulls me in closer as we head to the table. "I'm sorry you got a bad rap yesterday, man."

"Don't worry about it," I pull at the sides of my suit. "There's no one to blame but yourself."

"Nah, at least part of the fault goes with Hanzo," he smirks. "I think if you fought a guy with his skill, but a better attitude, you'd have a starting job. I wouldn't say it to his face, obviously, but that guy can be a real pain sometimes."

"Yeah," I finally loosen up a bit. "What position did you get?"

"Point Guard," his pupils bounce. "Oh . . ."

"Yeah,"

"If you're gonna reclaim your position," he chuckles. "You're gonna have to take my spot,"

 _Don't make me feel guilty about this; I need to earn back my reputation with the coach._ "Taiuchi—"

"Nah, just fooling around," he nudges my elbow. "Just remember; I may not be a super star like you or Hanzo, but I'm no slouch either. You're gonna have to work real hard if you wanna kick me down the food chain."

"Yeah," I nod. "I'll keep that in mind."

By the time our interchange is through, we've reached the table. In total, there are fifteen guys on the squad; five starters, five back-ups, and five third strings. My entrance goes unnoticed as most of them are already engaged in conversation. Yuichi, however, takes the time to give me a haughty sneer.

"'Shows what happens when you don't keep your head in the game," he mutters to a first-string who laughs in response. I sigh as I take a bite of the Yakisoba bread Taiuchi bought me.

"This is pretty good," I tell him, mouth full. "How did you know I didn't like sweet stuff?"

"To be honest, I didn't know," he laughs. "I just figured nobody my age likes that stuff; I certainly don't."

I consider this coincidence as I dig into the rest of the bread.

"Hey,"

A guy with buzzed brown hair and sharp eyes calls to me from the other side of the table. "What's up?"

"'Don't feel bad about ending up a back-up," he leans back in his chair. "In a way, you should feel respected Coach has put guys like us in those shoes."

"Really?" I ask skeptically. "Why's that?"

"Think about it," he places his hands on the table. "The best back-ups take their training to heart and work as hard as they can to get to the spot they want. A lot of people who begin as starters take their position for granted and don't work as hard as they could."

"I . . . see." I mull his words over for a few moments. "What about the starters who do work hard? Wouldn't they dethrone the ones who don't?"

"That's what usually happens," he concedes. "But it doesn't happen. Sometimes, if a basketball player works JUST hard enough, he can silence his critics. They won't choose a safer alternative because he's dependable and don't wanna risk taking another choice. In the end, though, someone who had their natural skills tested and ended up honing them better than they would have otherwise would be a logical replacement, right?"

"Yeah, but, how do you know the coach is even like that?"

"You think I came up with all this crap myself?" He hollered. "No; I had a LONG talk with the coach about why I was made back-up. I picked up most of this stuff from him.

"So, you think this is an opportunity?"

"Definitely," he once again leans back in his chair. "Even if it doesn't make as much sense as I think it does, it's still inspirational."

"I don't know," I look distantly into the throng of people spread throughout the cafeteria. "I just think it's a vote of no-confidence from the coach."

"'Because it is," Hanzo says matter-of-factly.

"In more optimistic terms," he levels a glare at the prodigy before continuing, "while the coach did choose things the way he did because he wanted to do what's best for the team, he's not counting us guys out."

He brought his fist out. "Let's work hard to become starters."

I hesitate for a moment. _How can this guy be so enthusiastic? How can he find something positive in being relegated to a position like that . . .?_

"Yeah," I fist-bump him. "What's your name, anyways?"

"Sarutobi Aito," he grabs my wrist and shakes it hard. "We've got a whole season ahead of us; let's play hard."

"Right," I squeeze his arm harder.

 _2:55 PM_

"See you guys later,"

I wave to Kotomi and Nagisa after classes end for the day. "Oh, Kotomi, I'm probably gonna be coming over to your house this evening. I'm pretty mangled on the details on that history lecture the teacher gave,"

"Alright," She says. "I'll remember that,"

"And Nagisa-san?"

"Yeah?"

I wink. "'Don't forget to check out the drama room, okay?"

"Um . . . Okay!" She pumps her fist. "I'll give it my best!"

"Good," I dash across school grounds to the gymnasium. Once there, I get into my sports uniform as fast as possible before meeting up with the team. Coach Miturashi has a curious frown on his face.

"You took a little longer than I thought you would, Tomoya-san,"

"Sorry," I lower my head. "I got here a minute or two late."

"Just be quicker on the uptake next time,"

"Sure," I shake my head, joining up with the pack. Aito and Taiuchi pat me on the shoulders as I head up to join the group.

"Now, as it said on your syllabus, today we'll be focusing on dribble and passing drills. For the last fifteen minutes, we'll combine both into a sort of scrimmage. I want each of you to split off into pairs."

He points at Hanzo and me. "You two, pair up,"

"What?" We say in unison.

"With all due respect, Miturashi-sama," Hanzo says peacefully. "I don't think putting us together is a sensible decision; I'm not even a back-up."

"That's not the point," the coach sticks a toothpick in his mouth. "You two showed a total lack of cooperation in the tryouts yesterday. If Tomoya ever ends up starter, you two need to learn to get along."

"But—"

"No buts, Okazaki," he blows on his whistle. "Alright, now that you're all paired up, let's get going. Takeshi, you can work out with me . . ."  
Hanzo dribbles the ball in my direction and glares at me. "Just to make it clear, I shouldn't be working with someone of your caliber. I worked hard to get where I am, and now the coach is treating me like lower-class crap. You can't expect me to take this seriously—"

I swipe the ball from his hands, dribbling it a few feet away from him.

"Too bad," I narrow my eyes. "We're stuck in this mess, and Coach isn't gonna let us go until we learn something."

I pass the ball back to me. "So, either show me the ropes or get us both in trouble; take your pick."

Rolling his eyes. Hanzo expertly dribbles the ball between his legs. "The key to keeping up with someone who has the ball is to balance half of your weight on the heels of your feet and the front. That way, you can move any direction in a moment's notice."

Without warning, he strafes to the side. I'm almost able to keep up with him but end up tripping.

"You put too much weight on your heels," he sighs. "Aren't you following any of this?"

"Beginners' luck," I comment as I pull myself up from the ground. "Let me try again,"

This time, I keep my balance, but he escapes my block.

"You let yourself lose confidence," he whips his head back. "If you want to effectively block any opponent, you have to keep them in your sights at all time. Stuff like foot positioning should be easy. The thing that bugs me is that you haven't had this trouble before,"

Of course I know why I'm having trouble; the fact I'm paired up with this guy makes it difficult to concentrate. But I can't give him the pleasure of knowing that.

"Just getting back in the swing of things," I shake my head. I plant my teeth firmly on my lip. "Now, are we gonna sit around and point out my flaws, or are we actually going to work on them?"

For a moment, I thought I saw the guy smile. It disappears just as fast, however.

"If you want me to stop talking, than stop commenting on everything I say."


	7. Suspended by a Thread

**7: Suspended by a Thread**

 _2:55 PM_

"Good luck, Nagisa-chan,"

I pat Nagisa on the shoulder as I head towards the stairs to the ground floor. Fists still clenched at her sides, Nagisa says, "I will!" in the loudest voice she can muster.

 _I hope the drama club members aren't persnickety._ Kotomi sighs. _Tomoya had a point when he said she wasn't exactly drama club material. How will she respond if they turn her down . . .?  
_

Though I normally head home before making my way to the lab, I decide to head their first. I don't really feel like making the extra trip, and my guardian will surely pick up my lab coat from the house.

I approach the fenced-in area surrounding the facilities. Aside from said perimeter wall, the lab is fairly inconspicuous, so people don't give it much more attention than a sideways glance.

Before I can open the gate, a shadowy figure approaches from my side.

"Ichinose-san?"

I turn to face Dr. Tomohiro. His face is grim, and his eyes exude concern as they dart across his field of vision.

"Tomohiro-san? What's wrong?"

"I need to tell you something," he explains, "but not here. Let's go up the road?"

"Is something wrong-?"

"I'll tell you when we're farther from the lab," he cuts me off harshly. However, he walks off alone. _Should I follow him? Something about his behavior seems awfully suspicious . . . But, don't I know I can trust him?  
_

"Ichinose-san?" He calls after me. "I'd understand if you don't want to follow me, but . . . This isn't something I can safely tell anyone else."

I consider his words for a few minutes before finally consenting to following him. _What's he going to say? What could he possibly know that would be so important to me . . .?  
_

Before I can come to a conclusion, I resolve to reserve judgement. _Whatever he's saying probably isn't that important.  
_

We reach a more crowded area close to the downtown area of Hikarizaki. The streets are lively with people striding across both sidewalks. A couple of thuggish young adults lurk discontent in the alleyway across from us.

"What is it you wanted to tell me?" I ask, turning back to Tomohiro.

"Right," he wipes the sweat from under his bangs and bends his back over. "I apologize for being so curt, but there's something you need to know about Dr. Hiromu?"

"'Dr. Hiromu'?" _Stay calm, Kotomi; find out what he's taking about first._ "What about him?"

"He didn't want me to let anyone know," he shut his eyes tight. "He said he'd kill the people who told him."

"What?" I'm panicking; my voice is wavering and I'm hunching over. "WHAT?!"

"Dr. Hiromu killed your parents!" He flails his arms against my shoulders and begins to weep. "He's not the only one; several people in the lab are in on it!"

"Are you telling the truth?" I push his face up to mine. "Are you?"

"Yes! I wouldn't lie about something like this, I swear it—!"

"Well, well, well,"

The men from the alley way walk towards us. "'Looks like somebody's been a _bad_ little bird,"

A short, muscular member with scars on his cheeks smirks. "'Can't have anybody stealing pretty girls from us."

"No!" He shouts to everyone nearby. "Don't let them kill me; stop it!"

I'm paralyzed. The people around us either watch like I am or dash off as fast as possible. One calls the police while another takes pictures.

"I'm begging you!"

"PLEASE . . .-!"


	8. Cold

**8: Cold**

 _4:30_

It wasn't exactly the most pleasant of practices, but I feel I learned a lot from teaming up with Yuichi.

For all his stuck-up behavior, he knows what he's talking about. I already see myself shifting into a more balanced player by the end of the week.

" _There, now you're starting to get it," he patted me on the shoulder, tossing a ball effortlessly into the hoopp, "in high school, a purely offensive game, no matter how great, isn't gonna get you far. 'Take more of your cues from me, and maybe we will be rivals someday."_

 _Condescending, little . . ._

I shake my head fiercely. _No; this was for the best. I might never had realized what I was doing wrong if I hadn't stopped to listen to him._

I look off distantly into the sunset. Purple enshrouds the nearby sky more distinctly than normal. I have no idea why, but something feels off.

 _Nah . . . Hopefully, it's just me._

Dashing towards home, I catch sight of my father in the front yard. My eyes widen as my father stares at me.

His expression is a mix of fatality and understanding. _No; this never happens, he never does this._

"What happened?!"

Without warning, I sprint towards him and send shivers through his shoulders. He tries to shake me off but to no avail.

"H-how did you pick up on it so fa—"

"Stop acting like a stranger, dammit, and tell me what's wrong!"

Finally, my actions knock some sense into him. He adjusts his glasses and peers seriously into my eyes. It's been a while since I've seen that look from him, but I'm in mood to feel nostalgic.

"I just received a call from Kotomi-san's guardian, Nishimura Yamada. He told me that she's in shock right now."

"Why?" I shout, "tell me, why?"

"A couple of thugs followed her and a co-worker from the science lab into a crowded downtown area. They rushed up to them and killed Tomohiro Yagumi."

"Did they hurt her? Did they hurt Kotomi-chan?!"

"H-he said she's alright," my dad could barely keep calm under the circumstances. I wouldn't blame him if this had nothing to do with my best friend. "But she's in shock, practically paralyzed from the shock of seeing someone stabbed in front of her."

"Where is she?" I dig my nails into his shoulder blades. "I wanna see her!"

"She's back at home, resting in bed," he rubs his hands nervously together. "I just hope that poor girl's alright . . ."

I brush past him to fetch a wind breaker from inside the house. Afterwards, I run past him without another word.

 _How? How could I have let this happen?  
_

 _Why . . . Why now . . . After things were finally starting to get better for her!  
_

I slam my fist against a telephone pole. I let the sound reverberate for several minutes before continuing forward.

 _I'll get the animals who did this . . . I'll crush their throats with my bare hands!  
_

When I finally reach her house, I stop for a minute to gasp for breath. Once finished, I dash up her front steps.

"Hello?" I bang at the door over and over again. "Hello?!"

Suddenly, Hasegawa throws open the door. She stares at me with blood-shot eyes and gritted teeth.

"How dare you cause such a ruckus!" She clenches her fist. "Ichinose-sama is in a state of shock, and you're breaking down the door like some type of hooligan. How do you know you didn't just send her through another relapse?"

Hesitant, I lower the fist I'd used to knock on the door.

"When Nishimura-sama drove her over here, she was stone-cold," her eyes drift to the ground beneath her. "Her whole body was shaking, and she couldn't speak as her guardian lead her up to her room."

I try to speak but choke up instead. Desperate to force something resembling words out of my throat, "Wh-why? What kind of animal did this-?"

"Tomoya-san,"

Kotomi's guardian tips his hat politely when he notices me. "I trust you're looking for an explanation?"

"Take me to see her!"

He shakes his head slowly. "I will let you see her, but an explanation is in order. Come with me to the living room,"

"But—"

"Now."

Nishimura stands in front of the stair case, arms crossed. He's not budging until I let him have his say.

 _Fine . . . I guess I can wait a few minutes._

He leads me into the serene area, the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock a stark contrast to my instability.

"Would you like to take a seat?"

I narrow my eyes. "I'll stand,"

"Alright," he sits down on the couch with a sigh, "from what I was able to get out of Kotomi-chan, Yagumi-san, a co-worker of mine, had taken her to a crowded area so he could tell her something. As it turns out, he suggested that he had been a part of a conspiracy engineered by Dr. Hiromu to kill Kotomi-chan's parents."

I pause for a moment. I continue almost immediately afterward. "Are you serious?"

"That's what he said anyway," her guardian frowns, "she said he was frantic; lungs heaving up and down, teeth bared; whatever he was trying to convince her of was something he truly believed."

"So, in other words, he's either a lunatic, or he's on to something."

"Exactly," he agrees. "It's also suspicious that the thugs who murdered him refused to lay a hand on Kotomi-chan, despite their initial threat."

"Are they in custody?"

"Yes," he stares up at the clock on the wall, "something disturbs me about this, though . . ."

"What's that?"

"Kotomi-chan said the thugs followed her and Yagumi-san to the crowded area. She hadn't thought of it much then, but she noticed similar characters loitering near the facility when she first arrived . . ."

"How do we know, then?"

His head turns in surprise.

"How do we know whether he's telling the truth or not?" I tighten my fist. "If Dr. Hiromu and other scientists in the lab are responsible for their deaths, how are we supposed to prove it? They haven't done anything duplicitous."

"If Dr. Hiromu truly is guilty, then he probably hired those thugs to eliminate Yagumi-san if he tried to blow the whistle. While the circumstances made it impossible for them to evade capture, they were willing to do it. This probably means that he paid them a handsome sum."

"I just don't believe it . . ." I wipe the culminating sweat from my forehead. "After all that time to recover from what happened, now she has to deal with this?"  
I throw my hands down against the coffee table. "Damnit, it's not fair!"

"Calm down, Tomoya-san," her guardian cautions, "I understand this must be hard for you, but it does you no good to lose your nerve."

"What am I supposed to do, huh?" I ask him. "Every day, I have to worry whether my best friend is gonna come home alive or dead. I don't know who I can trust at the lab or who could possibly be a criminal. Since they were able to hide things so well before this came out, imagine what'll happen now that he knows we're on to him. No one could get anything out of someone that tight-lipped,"

He winces at my hopelessness. "I think the more concerning issue is how we're going to get a detective to investigate him. Aside from that frantic man's ramblings, there's no evidence that he's involved in any criminal activity. Unless the deviants did something to give such a theory more credibility, no one will take our case."

Sneering, I throw my back against the old clock on the left side of the room. "If that's the case, what do we do?"

"Well, all Kotomi-chan and I can do is keep a close eye on Dr. Hiromu and the others at the lab. If we notice any suspicious behavior, we make a note of it."

"Why not take Kotomi-chan out of the lab?" I question. "'Might that draw suspicious behavior out of them?"

"I have a feeling she will be safe there," he scratches his head thoughtfully, "after all, those ruffians for whatever reason made no move to harm her. I imagine there's a reason Dr. Hiromu is keeping her alive, provided he is to blame for her parents' death. So, there's no reason for me to keep her here."

I nod. "True, but that doesn't exactly answer my point. Won't they just continue on as always; what reason would they have to act differently if all the pieces are in the same place?"

"I understand that logic," Nishimura says, crossing his arms together. "But what if, simultaneously, he wants to keep an eye on her without drawing suspicion?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm not trying to besmirch Kotomi-chan's genius, but the fact he was willing to accept someone so young into the development team was suspicious to say the least. Now, one could argue he was just trying to earn her liking, but it's still an odd move for someone responsible for the majority of the occurrences at the lab."

"You're worried he might do something drastic to gain sight of her again?"

Nishimura pulls his hat over his eyes. "I imagine for more important jobs, he could find much better people to work for him than common street thugs."

My eyes widen. "I-I hadn't thought of that. You make a good point."

"Other than that, all we can really do is keep things as they are." He arises from his perch on the couch, like a raven keeping careful watch on his rivals. "We need to help Kotomi-chan get through this as fast as possible; can you help with that like you did before?"

I avoid his gaze as much as I can. _Be real; I'm no miracle worker. The only reason I was able to help her before was because we were kids. Now, I'm just an angsty teenager. How could I possibly help someone so far above me . . .?_

He catches my weary eyes and answers me with a genuine smile.

"You sell yourself short, Tomoya-san," he beams proudly, "you made my job a lot easier. For that, I owe you more than I could ever repay."

I groan. "Now, you're just being ridiculous," Nevetheless, I bow. "But, thanks,"

"Don't give the matter a second thought," he points up the stairs, "now, I might just be losing my marbles in my old age, but there's a girl up there who probably wants to talk to you."

"Yeah," I nod. "Good point,"

I quietly lurk up the stairs and knock softly at her door. Surprisingly enough, she stirs almost immediately.

"Hello?"

 _She sounds . . . Okay? I know it wasn't anything like what happened to her in the past, but . . . I thought she'd be more shook up._ "Kotomi-cha, I mean, Kotomi? It's Tomoya,"

"Tomoya-kun," she repeats. "Come in,"

Relieving my cheeks of moist burden, I heed her command. I take a moment to examine her expression as I pull open the door.

 _Calm . . . Content . . . Determined . . . What happened to her when I was gone?_ "Your guardian told me about what happened,"

Before sitting beside her, I close the door behind me.

"Are you doing okay?"

"Yes," she furrows her eyebrows and narrows her eyes. "It was hard at first, but I've been able to come to terms with it."

"Not to sound negative . . . " I raise an eyebrow, "but recovering so quickly after something like that isn't exactly normal."

"Oh, there's a simple reason for why I'm so calm,"

She pulls out an obnoxiously large drawer from her new dresser drawer and starts taping pieces of paper on the wall. I recognize them all too well.

 _No wonder she's so stoic . . . She's continuing the hunt._

"I should've realized I was a fool to stop looking," she sticks scrap after scrap on her bedroom walls, "I guess after a little while, I decided it'd be fine to believe there wasn't a killer; that my parents really had died in an accident and that's all there was to it."

She stamps a large biography recently published on Dr. Hiromu on the center of her fourth wall.

"There's no way it was a coincidence those thugs attacked as soon as he started to explain the truth behind their murders,"

She pauses for a moment to address me. "Besides, I knew Dr. Tomohiro; he never would have said something like that unless he meant it."

I shake my head rapidly, removing myself from a trance prompted by déjà vu. "You told Nishimura-san he sounded delirious. How do you know he wasn't crazy, stressed from work?"

"He was too calm up until they showed up," she explains. "If it wasn't for that, I'd agree with you. Besides, he'd shown no signs of insanity before."

"Since that's the case, how can you trust anything you knew about him?"

She halts her rambling at my sarcastic remark.

"If he conspired to kill your parents, what if he gave you a false lead? Why on earth would he suddenly betray them after all these years? If the guy felt guilty, he would've come clean a while back. Besides, why not tell everybody in the lab, where there was no effective way of killing him?"

"'Probably because several members of the lab are involved," she mutters to herself. "He might have doomed the others there to death. After all, if the group had enough skill to make my parents' death look like an accident, they'd probably be able to kill anyone who wasn't supposed to find out."

"That still doesn't explain why he suddenly felt guilty." I feel blood pulsate awkwardly through my body. "Besides, why would Dr. Hiromu kill your parents in the first place?"

"I'm not sure," she attaches another few papers to the wall, "the guys who murdered Tomohiro may let a piece of key information out if we're lucky. Unfortunately, I doubt the courts or the police will buy the conspiracy theory. That means, at least for now, I'm gonna have to do this myself."

"Kotomi," I say desperately as she continues to work on hanging up the articles. "This is insane; if you really are dealing with guys sick enough to kill your parents, than it's too dangerous to pursue them. And what if they're lying? Then, you've condemned innocent people to your wrath!"

"I have to take the chance," she stops to look at me once more. There isn't a single ounce of hesitancy in her eyes; none of the wavering emotions I'd seen in her before. "If my parents were murdered, I need to make sure the people responsible pay for what they did."

She isn't going to be back down; I could argue with her for days about whether this is a good idea, but she won't listen. I can't control her; she'll continue this investigation whether I want her to or not.

 _Damnit._

"'That said, I can postpone my research until later tomorrow," she takes a couple textbooks from her school bag. "What do you say we move up that study session you wanted to have?"


	9. Continued Pursuit

**9: Continued Pursuit**

 _7:30 PM_

"I'll see you later, Tomoya,"

I offer Tomoya a warm, awkward smile as we head to the ground floor. After almost three hours straight of studying, I'm a bit tired out.  
Normally, I wouldn't be. Despite his difficulty in learning some new concepts, Tomoya has usually participated readily in study sessions, particularly in the last year or so.

Today, however, he was mostly silent. To prevent the tense atmosphere from getting any worse, I found myself chattering on about our homework assignments non-stop.

Our trek down the stairs was the first time he began to emote. An uneasy sideways glance defined his facial movements as I lead him to the front door. Once we got there, he wrapped his hand wearily around the door knob.

"Yeah," he lets out, no tone or emotion obvious in his voice. "Listen, Kotomi . . . I won't lie and say I'd be any more composed than you are. But . . . I still think you're going out of line."

He narrows his eyes. "If your assumptions are correct, than Dr. Hiromu knows a lot more about you than you know about him. There's no evidence to convict him on; how can you possibly stay safe with all of these invariables?"

I pause for a moment. Taking in his legitimate complaints, I inhaled a short burst of air. "Scientists always have to work with a certain amount of invariables, Tomoya."

"Yeah, but they aren't usually in a life and death circumstance when they do it."

"Like I said, I knew Dr. Tomohiro. He never would have said something like that unless he meant it,"

"But even if that's so—"

"I'll find a way," I place a finger to his lips. "Good-bye, Tomoya-kun."

Tomoya tugs hap-hazarded at the edges of his coat collar as the song of cicadas buzz in our ears. Sighing, he takes a few steps back, leaving only one comment before leaving.

"Good luck,"

He stalks away into the night without another word. A cold breeze from the April air brushes against my cheeks.

 _Don't hesitate._ I sweep my arm across my body.

I shut the door and jog up the stairs to my room. Closing the door, I shuffle through the plethora of research materials I'd accumulated years ago.

 _It may be insignificant . . . But there has to be something I can get from it._

I force open one of the drawers and dig through the resulting pile. At the bottom, coated in dust, is the web page I printed.

"'Hope it's still legible," I murmur as I brush the signs of age from the artifact. After whisking air across the surface, I peer once more at the text.

 _"The Ichinoses never had a chance. Now, they're dead. And why are they dead? Simple, because of me."_

I brace my heart against my hand, taking three seconds to catch my breath. Recovered, I look once more at the page.

 _Nothing to indicate the author . . . The grammar is a bit simplistic, lacking in style or grace. I'd be shocked if one of the scientists in the lab came up with something as lazy as this . . ._

I scratch my head. _Maybe Tomoya was right; it's stretching it to attribute this to someone at the lab. It's so classless. So-  
_

 _Wait!  
_

I scan the top of the page and nod to myself. I snatch a pen from my burrow and scribble down the URL on the paper.

 _How could I have not seen this before?_

The steps echo with my footsteps as I hurry to the phone.

 _Surely, there's someone who'd be able to find a way to find a host from this info._

"Kotomi-chan,"

My guardian's distinctive gravel sends a sharp "stop" signal through my nerves. As I rest my hand on the countertop, I turn to face him.

"Ojii-san," I bow, "what can I do for you?"

"Who are you calling?"

I gulp, surprised at how set his tone is. "I was going to contact Dr. Ishihara about a dead web page I'd found."

He quirks his eyebrow. "Even if your suspicions are well-founded, it's far too early to start investigating. Besides, how do you know he's not with them as well?"

I bite my lip.

"Such a poorly worded statement is uncharacteristic of the scientists at the lab; I'm sure that thought crossed your mind already."

"It did," reluctantly, I tilt my head, "but I don't see why he'd want to betray my parents; you've heard how passionate he is about their work."

He stays silent for a minute, pondering his next words with careful deliberation. "My job is to keep you safe at all costs. It would be foolish of me to let you recklessly pursue this."

"It's just a weakly-formatted hate-message that anyone could have written; I doubt there's much harm it could do."

"What if Dr. Hiromu finds out and has him killed like Dr. Tomohiro? What if he's working with them and reveals the post exists? What if someone else dies when he leaks his co-worker's story?"

Gradually, my eyes start to squint.

"Kotomi-chan, understand this recent turn of events puts a suspicious glint on everyone in the lab, even someone like me who you've known for years. You can't gamble with peoples' lives just because you're desperate for answers."

My eyes drift out the window, meeting with a firefly landing on to various portions of the glass in a set pattern. " . . . You're right."

He wipes perspiration from his forehead. "However, just because entrusting this information to Dr. Ishihara would be foolish doesn't mean you can't trust anyone."

"What do you mean?" I ask as he flips through the address book.

"A friend of mine named Matsumoto Yukihiro. He's a bit of an oddball, but he's just as intelligent as Dr. Ishihara, if not more-so. He's an expert computer programmer; the owner of a local computer technical support business. He should be able to devise additional information about the site with the resources he has at hand."

"What do you think he'll be able to find?" I'm familiar with computers but not enough to find out complex information from a dead website's domain.

"I'm not sure," he grimaces as he dials the number. "Whatever's the case, he won't be able to solve this over a single phone call; he's going to want to see the page you printed out."


	10. Distance between Them

**10: Distance between Them**

 _7:35 PM_

Let's just say, I doubt I got much from that study period.

Holding my composure as she saw me off was one of the hardest things I'd ever done. At that moment, the last thing I wanted to do was peacefully let her carry about her self-destructive behavior. I wanted to yell, call her out on how stupid and foolhardy she was being. I wanted to let her know exactly how much I cared about her, and how I'd never be able to forgive myself if this lead to her death.

But I didn't. I couldn't muster the strength. Her resolve had intimidated me.

That's why I restrained myself. That's why I walked into the darkening sky without another word.

I only pretended to follow along as she drilled me on various information from the class. I didn't exactly make a convincing effort, acknowledging her lecture with only 'mmhms' and 'I sees'. I'm sure she picked up on it, but she obviously wasn't interested in continuing our prior discussion. So, she carried on.

As a particularly cold breeze tickles my nose, I stare into the abyss above me. From the small bits of light glinting off the corner of my eyes, I can tell the sky's brighter than it appears to be. Lost in an uncertain wasteland, however, I find no comfort in the sun's shower.

 _I wonder if she feels the same way . . ._

My question goes unanswered. Honestly, I don't even have the strength to distract myself. I'll just head home and get to bed early.

Approaching my front door, I let myself inside. Next to the countertop, my father tries desperately to scrub a frying pan he'd lent to a neighbor last week. His fingers are fidgeting and his lips are tensed at their sides.

' _Looks like he hasn't drunk in a little while._ I note as I continue towards the stairs.

"Tomoya-kun,"

I stop. "What is it?"

Dead. Cold. In his broken, if sober state, my dad is still able to detect the flatness in my tone. I can't even muster up the angry to argue, to fight back; at this moment, I'm hopeless.

He dares to return his eyes to the dishes. I'm actually thankful for that; I'd rather not spend any more time here than necessary.

Instead, he decides to ask a question.

"Is she alright . . . Kotomi-san, I mean?"

Instinctively, I bite my lip. The feeling is there, but it feels raw; there's no weight or investment behind my anger. It's little more than a force of habit.

 _Why . . . Why can't I be mad at him?  
_

 _Get out of this funk, damnit! He's ruined your life ever since what happened years ago! Don't let him convince you he deserves more than you've given him!  
_

In response . . . Nothing. I'm just as monotone, just as bleak, just as lifeless.

"Yeah, she was just a bit frazzled; that's all."

"Well . . . I'm glad she recovered –"

I'm gone. I can't tell whether he stopped myself, or whether I just ran out of ear shot. I don't care either way.

I softly push the door to my room open and close it behind me. Stepping towards my bed, I lean my arms on his head for several seconds.

"AHH!"

I tear the windbreaker off my back and slam it against my bed. I rip the covers off my bed and claw my fingers into the mattress. Finally, I throw my face onto the bed.

 _Why . . . Why does she have to do this to me?  
_

Sobbing follows. I end up tasting fractions of the tear drops slipping from my eyes.

 _She won't listen to me . . . I can't help her._

I lean my head on its side and glance out the window.

 _She's on her own now . . . There's nothing I can do it about it now._

 _Wednesday, 8:55 AM_

I sit in the classroom, dead and without warmth. The strength in me to try is gone. The pain from yesterday hadn't subsided in the least.

During class, Kotomi watched me pleadingly. Her eyes wanted to reconcile, but I knew her heart wouldn't give me what I wanted. How could I possibly act like nothing had happened knowing she could die any minute?

I noticed Yuki giving me a concerned look from her seat. However, she made no attempt to find out what was wrong with me.

 _What a relief . . ._

Now, I scroll aimlessly through my mathematics textbook, searching for answers in its lifeless nature. Footsteps come up to the side of my seat.

"Tomoya-kun . . .?"

I tilt my head up to see her. She meets my gaze with concern and fear. I can't tell which is stronger; whatever's the case, though, both are there.

 _I guess I do look frightening, huh . . .?  
_

I grit my teeth together. _Even her . . . Someday, I should've known she could never be friends with a delinquent. It's not much different than what happened with Sakura years back. I can't get past my label . . ._

"What do you want?"

I ask her coarsely. She's taken aback for a second but recovers fast. She crosses her arms, and her expression rings with conviction. "I wanted to let you know that my guardian is taking as many measures as he can to keep me safe, considering the circumstances."

I refuse to acknowledge her argument. I sit still and watch her speak.

"I understand your position," she narrows her eyes, "but I'm not going to just let things be when the people at the lab may have killed my parents."

My irises don't even flicker. I stare as blankly as I had when she first came over.

"I have a right to make my own decisions!" She swings her right arm. "I'm not going to let my parents' legacy be tainted by men like Dr. Hiromu! They will pay for what they did, I swear—"

"You're crazy."

"Wh-wha—"

I stand up from my seat. "'Just like you were back then; just a fool, trying to convince herself there's hope it wasn't just an accident."

I tighten my fists. "I thought you'd grown out of that, Kotomi-chan."

My eyes widen into a crazed expression. "I thought you said you knew it was all a lie!"

"Things are different now!" She snaps. "I know there's something else involved."

The people around us turn to watch the carnage.

"Why is this so important to you?" I bark. "Your parents wanted you to be happy! By investigating this frickin' conspiracy theory, you're spitting on their graves!"

She slaps me across the face. A hollow sound runs through my right cheek.

Suddenly, everything becomes clear. It knocked me out of it . . . I'm no longer dead. The world around me . . . Colors fill it with life of some sort.

I can see her before me. The tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. The anguish emanating from her lips. The pain I caused her; all of it is before me.

 _How could I have been so selfish . . .?  
_

I ask myself as I hit the ground, my forehead starting to bleed.

 _Why did I treat her like a dog I promised to protect . . . Why didn't I recognize she was human?_

I brace my body against my arms and lift myself from the ground. I look into her eyes full of pain.

"Kotomi-cha-," I try my best to force the words from my throat, "I—"

"Class is starting,"

The teacher's voice reaches every ear in the room. "Please, get back in your seats,"

"Kotomi-chan," I try to repeat myself, "I—"

"Tomoya-kun,"

The ice in my voice; it was now in hers.

The suffering . . . the cold . . . the bleakness . . . It was in her now.

I'd sacrificed her well-being for mine once again . . .

"You won't have to worry about me anymore,"

She walks over to her assigned seat.

"If we can't reach an agreement . . . Then we shouldn't be friends anymore." _  
_


	11. Paranoia or Untempered Focus

**11: Paranoia or Untampered Focus?**

 _Kotomi_

 _Tuesday, 8:15 PM_

" _Hmm . . . Yes, yes,"_

 _Matsumoto murmured in this matter every three seconds. From what I could decipher, he appeared, someone who often daydreamed during his work. His office, littered with scraps of paper and discarded print-outs, had to be the most disorganized working space I had ever seen._

 _I aimed another skeptical glance at my guardian. He responded with nothing more than a nod._

' _I've never seen someone play the brilliant but lazy cliché so precisely . . .'_

" _Have you uncovered anything?" My guardian frowned. I would have normally been surprised to see him so openly show disdain, but we'd be watching this man mutter to himself for the past fifteen minutes; I couldn't exactly blame him._

" _Well . . ." He slapped the paper down on the only unoccupied spot on his desk. "It's difficult to figure out where this thing came from; not only was it probably uploaded and deleted in the course of a day, but the as far as I can tell, the domain's not part of any larger network. In other words, whoever posted it made the simplistic coding by himself; tracking him will be nigh-on impossible."  
_

 _"Are you sure there isn't_ anything _you can do to find out where this page was uploaded?"_

" _Hmm . . ." He clawed absentmindedly at the stubble on his double chin, "yes, yes."  
_

 _"There's something you can do?" My guardian said.  
"It might take me a couple days," he crossed his arms, "but if I can find someone who used the same style of coding, I might be able to find the spot on the internet where this data used to be. Normally, I'd just examine the ghost page searching this URL would pop-up, but my computer won't even let me search the link."  
_

 _"Whoever did this must have had some skill with computers . . ." I looked into his eyes. "How likely is it that you'll be able to find something from this."  
_

 _"I'd say it's about a 60-40 chance," he opened one of his drawers and tossed a handful of Cheetos into his mouth. "And that's coming from someone as intuitive as me, so there's definitely no guarantee I'll find anything."_

" _I see . . ." My guardian bowed politely. "In that case, we'll leave you to your work."  
_

 _"Thank you," the man nodded distantly, returning his attention to the laptop on his desk. "Hmm . . . yes, yes."_

 _Wednesday, 8:59 AM_

It wasn't absolute, but Matsumoto's interest in the crudely made piece of paper convicted me that I wasn't just paranoid.

Maybe that was why Tomoya's mood made me so cold. I've tried to make my opinion as clear as I can, but he continues to judge me for it.

 _He just doesn't understand . . . How can I sit back as the people who murdered my parents get away scot-free?  
_ From my seat, I dared a look into Tomoya's eyes.

He was petrified . . . The color in his face was all but gone and the spark in his eyes had been extinguished. The only motion he showed was an occasional twitch.

 _Maybe I should . . . No, things will just get worse if I try to apologize. Even if we make up, this discussion will happen again . . . Why feed a painful cycle like this one?_

Confident, my attention once again focused on the teacher. As I've done for over a decade, I deliberately record the concepts and terms that would prompt me to remember any small details the teacher might mention during a lecture. My emotional vestment may be tempered, but my notes are as high quality as they've always been.

At the end of second period, I catch a wayward glance from Hanzo. Once she notices I've caught on, she retracts it immediately.

 _I guess I shouldn't be surprised her opinion on who should get involved in other peoples' lives was derived from more than just anger . . ._

When fourth period comes to a close, I rush out of the classroom as quickly as I can. Tomoya seems to have calmed down, but I can't let personal attachments get in the way.

 _At the end of the week, we can go back to being friends. It's that simple._

Jogging down the hallway, I hear a loud voice from behind me.

"Kotomi-chaan!"

She sprints up to meet me, smoothing out the edges of her skirt once she gets there. "Wanna eat lunch together?"

"S-sure," I put on an awkward smile, "let's go."

"Oh, no,"

"What?"

"Something's bothering ya," she raps my head twice, "yep, 'looks like you're insane in the membrane."

"You aren't even using that joke right . . ."

"That's not the point," she puts her hands on her hips, "there's something you're not telling me."

"I'm sorry," I stretch out my arms, "I was just lost in thought for a sec; that's all."

Kanna studies me very carefully. Finally, she nods. "Alright, if you insist; let's go."

On our way down, she turns to look back at my classroom. "Hey, where's Tomoya?"

"He was roped in by a member of the basketball club to eat lunch at their table,"

"Alright, I can accept that." She points a finger at my forehead. "But you've gotta be more assertive with that guy if you two are gonna get together, alright?"

"S-sure," _This feels so wrong . . . I've never had to lie to her like this before . . .  
_

 _What's happening to me?  
_

The following events are a bit of a blur. Kanna leads me into the cafeteria, we grab two loaves of bread, and carry some type of inconsequential conversation afterwards.

As I slowly start to lose grip of my emotions, thoughts of the suspects stream through my mind.

 _Dr. Hiromu . . . Dr. Ishihara . . . Dr. Isogaii . . . Are any of them guilty? Or are they all?  
_ Kanna chatters on as I bring a hand to my chin.

 _Dr. Hiromu's probably resented my parents . . . Maybe he decided to kill them out of selfishness? I desire to take initiative on the project? What about Dr. Ishihara? The person who posted the blog had the computer know-how to almost completely erase any trace of the web page's existence. It wouldn't be too hard for someone like him to do that . . . And then there's how aloof Dr. Isogaii has been. Who in the world am I supposed to trust . . .?  
_ "You're just thinking deeply because there's some sort of mathematical algorithm you're working through, right?"

Kanna's eyes narrow, her lips scrunching in bewilderment at my hesitancy. "Kotomi-chan?"

"Oh, yes," I chuckle nervously and hit my hand against the table. "That's all."

"O—okay . . . " Kanna takes a huge chunk out of her bread. "But you know, if this keeps up, I'm gonna really make sure you spill your guts."

"I'll keep that in mind," I smile as I return to my food.

 _3:01 PM_

"See you later, Kanna,"

I wave back to the short-haired girl as I head towards the stairs.

"'Bye Kotomi-chan," she says softly, "but, why didn't you call me 'chan'? You've been _doing_ that for years now."

I slide my legs together and hang my head. _I hadn't even noticed I'd done it until she pointed it out; have I done this without knowing several times before this? How long have I been caught up in this obsession . . .?_ "'Sorry, Kanna-chan; I-I just forgot; that's all."

"Hm," she opens her palms. "You're acting really weird; before you head out today, I want you to promise that you'll be in a better mood tomorrow. Otherwise, you'll have to tell me exactly what's going on."

She furrows her eyebrows. "Are you okay with that?"

A choked heartbeat rings through my circulatory system. I grasp at the edges of my throat.

 _Calm down . . . You know why you're doing this, so why the hell are you getting so worked up? Make the promise; put on a better façade. You can do this._

 _No . . . I can't do this._

 _I can't._

"N-no," I swing my arms out to both sides of my body. "I can't,"

"K-Kotomi-chan?" Kanna stand still, shocked. "What are you . . .?"

I'm gone. Down the hallway, down the stairs; I can't spend another second here.

"Kotomi-chan?"

Nagisa nearly bumps into me as I make my way to the school's front entrance. "Nagisa-san? What's wrong?"  
"

I never got a chance to tell you earlier," she closes her eyes happily, "I got into the drama club."

"Y-you did?" I ask her, surprised. "That's great! What did they say?"

"Well, the Club President was pretty blunt about saying that I had a lot to work on when it came to acting," she recovers her self-deprecation with a ray of light that uplifts her expression, "but he said they need more members, and they haven't met someone as passionate as me in a long time."

"That's great, Nagisa-san," I nod earnestly. "You better get going, though; I'm pretty sure you're running late."

"Oh, right," she adjusts the hair on the roof of her head, "I better get going; see you later, Kotomi-chan."

She disappears down an area that leads to the old school building. As she does this, I huddle my arms nervously against my chest as I leave.

 _That wasn't fake . . . I honestly congratulated her._

I stop for several minutes. One . . . two . . . three . . .

 _I can't wait any longer._

I smother my lips in my palms, letting my tears stain the spaces in between my fingers. My sobbing is quiet, controlled, but still unquenchable.

 _God, please . . . Who am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to do now? Neither of them would ever let me run this on my own, so how can I convinced them I'm right . . ._

My knees fall to the ground. _What if I've dragged them down all this time? Tomoya would never been as broken as he was if we never became friends. Maybe . . ._

I wipe one last tear from my eye.

 _Maybe ending this friendship_ would _be the best thing for me._

 _Edited: September 12 11:51 AM_


	12. Gray

**12: Gray**

The day drags on a lot longer than I'm used to. It's the kind of mood where you can feel every second but nothing in particular stands out.

I couldn't remember anything about my classes or the fragmented conversations I had with passersbys. I can't even remember what I had for lunch.

I don't know how the hell I'm gonna get through basketball practice.

I head into the showers and change into my uniform. I ignore the couple of greetings I receive from my teammates.

The Coach rambles on about last week's results and continues on to cover our focus.

" . . . I know it sounds like I'm overspecializing to have us purely focus on shooting today, but I can't stress enough how important it is that you can land a shot successfully when it matters much."

He flings the ball to Yuichi and continues. "We're going to be paring up again; for today, our groups will be the same."

 _Of all the . . ._

"Now, get to work," the Coach blows his whistle and jogs over to the sideline. My teammates dodge my glances as I mindlessly run over to where Yuichi and I are assigned

"What's with that zoned-out look on your face?"

He throws the ball hard into my stomach. "'Get your head in the game; I hate doing this as much as you, but 'coach will have our heads if we don't."

"Yeah, yeah," I brush him off, bouncing the ball a couple times in my head. _'Can't let this guy taunt me the entire time . . . I might as well use this time to vent my anger._ ''Quit the small talk."

Yuichi frowns and places his hands on his hips. "Alright then,"

The session starts with a combination drill. I'm tasked with evading Yuichi in order to get close enough to make a shot for the goal. I dribble the ball side to side a couple times before beginning.

"Go!" He yells.

Promptly, I rush to get around me. He keeps me at arm's length, ensuring I don't have a chance to escape. But, without warning, I slip under him and dash for the hoop. I jump up, throw the ball, and make a successful three point shot.

Yuichi lets out an irritated whistle. "Not bad,"

He snaps his fingers impatiently.

"Let's go again; this time, I'm not hesitating."

We start again. I can already see a difference in his eyes; they never leave the ball even for a second. It's as if he can instinctively tell where my body will move without even having to look.

 _Damn . . . This isn't gonna be easy._

"GO!"

I instantly realize I'm not getting past him; he's caught on to my trick from before, and there's no way I'm slipping past him again. I scurry left, right, then left again. He hasn't slowed a bit.

 _How do I get past this guy? There has to be something he wouldn't be expecting . . ._

Suddenly, I sprint backwards. Eyebrow raised, he remains in hot pursuit.

I bounce the ball just out of arm's length and leap towards my right side. He's stunned for just enough time that I'm able to regain control of the ball. He stands shocked as I zoom towards the hoop.

But not for long.

He runs faster than I've ever seen him move before. With his right arm, he lunges for the ball. His fingertips graze the top, but it's too late for him to get a grip on it.

I make another successful shot.

 _Only two points this time, but it'll do._

Yuichi is seething. Teeth clenched, fists balled, eyes bulged, he jerks his right hand back to our starting position. "We'll come back to this; this time, I'm on offense."

We set up. _He's trying to test my versatility, prove I haven't learned a thing. Well, I've got a surprise from him . . . I'm not the linear specialist I used to be._

"Go!" I yell this time. I don't even have time to set my feet.

He bowls right past my left arm and makes an easy shot. I'm nearly thrown off my feet by the quickness his movements.

"You're gonna have to do better than that if you wanna get a starting job,"

He jogs back to his position. "Again,"

This time, he tries to break through my guard on the right side. Only this time, I'm ready for him. He rushes into my body, my legs barely providing enough resistance to keep him where he is.

I should've known he'd take advantage of this.

Right away, he shifts his weight, and runs around me. Another easy score follows four seconds afterwards.

"If you don't have balance, you don't belong on this time," he tucks the ball next to his hip. "Again,'

Finally, I've got him in an uncomfortable position.

Remembering our session from yesterday, I move my weight back and forth in time with his movements. "You aren't getting past me this time!"

"We'll see about that." He replies, rushing back and forth in hopes of finding a weakness in my defense. _Well, he'll be disappointed; I'm not letting him make it this time._

Ultimately, he decides to take a direct approach. _No surprise there; it's the only way he could possibly get past me._

He throws his whole body against my weight, trying desperately to make it past me. I steady my ground and push back, but I hadn't anticipated how overwhelming his strength would be. I'm starting to give.

 _No . . . I can't let 'em get past me again . . . I've gotta stop him . . . I've gotta!  
_

I pull back my right fist, step back, and punch his right cheek. He falls with a thud against the court.

I stand above him, breathing heavily. Several eyes on the court now watch us.

 _What . . . What did I just . . .?  
_

"What the hell was that?!"

He yells in my face. "Are you such a whiny loser, you can't even go down gracefully?"

He picks the ball up from the ground. "And to think I thought you might had the slightest chance of making it through."

"SHUT UP!"

I strike him across the face once again and pull both sides of his jersey towards me. Aito and a couple others run up to try and stop us.

"Hey, hey, break it up you two, we're all—"

"Quiet, Aito," Yuichi growls, eyes red, "in a couple of minutes, I'll make sure this bastard doesn't breathe."

He swipes my arms away from me and digs his fist into my ribs. Blood pours out of my mouth as he follows his attack with a punch to the face.

"You're dead!" He shouts as several players try to restrain him. "I'm not letting you leave this court in one piece!"

"THAT'S ENOUH!"

Coach Miturashi blows hard on his whistle and runs over to us.

"Hit the showers and get out of the court _now_. If you two pre-Madonnas can't get your acts together, I'm kicking you off the team."

Yuichi's head jerks back to meet the Coach's eyes. "But—"

"Now!"

 _3:40 PM_

None of us say anything to the other in the locker room. We take turns showering, put back on our school uniforms and leave the gymnasium.

He starts his trek home pensive, furious.

I make my way back silent, dead.

There's nothing I can do; Kotomi won't forgive me for what happened, and there's not a remote chance we could reconcile. I can see the hypocrisy in ignoring her considering my original complaints, but I'm not in a rhetorical mood.

 _She won't listen to me . . . And I won't listen to her . . . Since that's the case, we can never be friends again . . ._

 _I have to find a way to accept this._

Just like last night, I don't feel like roaming. I head straight home.

My dad is stretching out his back in front of a monotone news broadcast when he notice me. Adjusting his glasses to their proper position, he shuts his eyes and gives me that dull smile.

"Tomoya-kun . . . How was school?"

 _No . . . Not this . . . Not this, too . . ._

"Is something the matter?" He bites his lip. "Did I say something . . . odd?"

 _Stop it . . . Stop it, stop it, stop it!  
_

"If you don't want to answer me, that's fine," he hangs his head. "If you don't wanna talk, you can just walk right past—"

"Stop it!"

I shout into the air, sending a jolt down his back. I pause for several seconds.

Then, I fall on my knees and press my head against the floor.

"Stop it . . . I can't take this . . . Kotomi, you, even my team . . . Nothing's gone right!"

"T-Tomoya-kun," he raises up a hand, "is there something I can-?"

"No!" I pound the ground with my fist. "There's nothing you can do; nothing! You've never done a damn thing for me all my life; why the hell would you be able to do something for me now?"

The shade in his glasses covers the paleness in his eyes.

I chuckle humorlessly, tears leaking out of my eyes. "It's all over . . . There's nothing you can do . . ."

"It's all over."


	13. An Additional Ally

**13: An Additional Ally**

 _4:05 PM_

"Ladies and gentlemen,"

Dr. Hiromu clasps his hands together. On his face is a perfectly suitable expression of sorrow.

"Before we commence with today's exploits, I say we hold another moment of mourning for Dr. Tomohiro Yagumi, one of our most valued companions."

He holds the required silence for precisely 15 seconds. Once finished, he continues his thoroughly rehearsed speech.

"No one in this room could have contributed the technical knowledge he did." He lowered his head. "However, the last thing our deceased friend would want us to do would post-pone our research for his benefit. That is why his family agreed to schedule his funeral for this Sunday."

I clench my fist. _He's cold enough to postpone the funeral just so he can continue his research . . . How could anyone here find this man convincing?  
_

"In the meantime, several of our researchers have continued Dr. Tomohiro's work on the device in his stead. Based off of suggestions provided by various contributors on Monday, we have completed the final version of the device."

Applause in unison follows his proclamation.

"I assure you, this version is much more user-friendly than the previous one," he inclines his head towards the door, "if you wish to prove me wrong, you can go see it now."

Chuckles run through the room. "If not, I suggest you return to our office areas."

A select few split off to investigate the machine, but most return to the office room. I head to join the minority but am stopped by a hand on my shoulder.

"Ichinose-san,"

Dr. Hunan stares into my eyes. A determined spark reflects from her gaze into my own. "I need to have a word with you,"

Dr. Tomohiro's death flashes across my eyes. _No . . . Don't tell me she's . . .?_ "In just a minute; I want to examine the final product Dr. Hiromu shipped out."

"There's no need; I checked it as soon as I got here," she straightens her posture, "he's telling the truth."

"I . . . see," _She played the foil to him on Monday; what if it's all just an act to get me to let my guard down._ "In that case, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

She glances all around her before speaking in a hushed tone. "I don't trust Dr. Hiromu anymore than you do; I have a feeling he's hiding something, and if you don't mind, I'd like to help in any way I can."

 _There's definitely something off about her. Maybe if she's a friend of my guardian's, I might believe her, but this is way too convenient. I have to decline . . .  
_

"Thanks for the offer, but it'd probably draw attention from Dr. Hiromu if we worked together, especially since you've opposed his decisions in the past."

"You have a point . . ." She takes out a sheet of paper from her pocket. "In that case, here's my email address,"

I examine the small piece of notepad paper as she continues.

"With this, we'd be able to communicate without Dr. Hiromu knowing about our ventures. The only way I could see him finding out about our partnership is if Dr. Ishihara is on his side. I find that highly unlikely,"

"I do, too," _I guess it couldn't hurt to exchange messages with her. Besides, even if she did give me false information, I might be able to lead her on in some way. With my guardian's help, I might even be able to trap Dr. Hiromu exactly where I want him._ "I'll message you if I find out anything important. I'm curious, though; why do you think Dr. Hiromu staged what happened to Dr. Tomohiro? If you're right about his intentions, he might try to kill you for attempting to expose his plans."

"I'm aware of that," she frowns, "but this whole affair is too suspicious _not_ to be a conspiracy. Besides, I want some clarity; I don't think I could live with myself without knowing whether he was responsible for your parents' murder or not."

 _She's resolved to do this . . . Ironically, to an even greater degree than I am. If she thinks Dr. Hiromu is guilty . . ._

I grit my teeth. _Then, I can't doubt anymore!  
_

"Alright," I bow, "you've earned my trust; let's pool our resources and see what we can find."

"Good," she smiles, "let's head back to the office area, though; we don't want Dr. Hiromu to get suspicious."

"Of course,"

We head to our designated location and meet up with my guardian. At our approach, he stands up awkwardly and examines Dr. Hunan with a wary eye.

"I'm glad to hear you're willing to help us, Dr. Hunan," He says, bowing waist low, "through this combined effort, we will be able to ensure this organization has integrity from now on."

"That's my hope as well, Dr. Nishimura."

My guardian glances at me. _Can we trust her?_

I shake my head. _Yes, I promise._

"There's a friend of mine who runs a local Technical Support business. If we have a question related to decoding internet files, he'll be the one to ask."

"That's good," she notices a couple scientists entering Dr. Hiromu's office. "I recognize Dr. Ishihara but who's the other one?"

"Dr. Hana Ayashii, leading member of the manufacturing division. He's always been a bit shady; it wouldn't surprise me if he had something to do this."

I follow their gaze. "I don't recognize him; has he been here for a while?"

"Actually, he's one of the project's earlier members," My guardian sighs, "his office is towards the back of the room, so most don't normally notice him. He and Dr. Hiromu worked together in college, so it's likely our Project Head was the one who recommended him."

"Definitely dubious," Dr. Hunan says, "but I better get back to my station. I'll see you two later,"

"Good-bye," we bow in unison as she walks back to her office space.

"Do you feel any pieces coming together?" I ask.

"I'm drawing a rough sketch of a picture, but I can't find a final drawing that fully resembles the assembled whole. I imagine we'll be spending a lot of time on this investigation,"

"That's fine by me," I cross my arms, "as long as we get to the bottom of this."

He blinks once at me. "That reminds me; from what I've been able to ascertain, you said you and Tomoya had a falling out."

"Yes," I clench my sleeves, "I don't want to talk about it,"

"You two have been best friends for years. How could you possibly decide to abandon a friendship you've cherished for so long?"

"I'm not the one who wanted it to end," I narrow my eyes, "he did."

He raises his arm to protest but ultimately falters. "I can't tell you how to live your life; I just don't want you to forget what's important in all this."

"I won't," I vow, turning my head away from him. _It's ridiculous to ask me if I've forgotten what's important . . . After all, for whose sake am I risking my life?_


	14. Delinquency

**14: Delinquency**

 _Thursday 8:15 AM_

 _Tomoya_

I attend school to get away from home. I skip class because I wanna get away from her.

Instead, I roam the uninhabited halls of the old school building. Teachers rarely come through here, and the rooms are only used for after school club.

I stare out into the grey morning air outside. The clouds blot out the sunlight, bringing nothing but the promise of rain.

There is no light in this world I live in now. I have no family, I have no friends, and I have no life.

Drifting aimlessly is all I am capable of.

I should go to Furukawa Bakery; I'm sure the old man would be able to get through to me.

But I don't. I don't wanna be convinced I'm wrong. As weird as it sounds, I want to stay in this mood I've found myself in.

I have no idea why, of course. The only thing I can figure is maybe I think I don't deserve to be happy.

 _Yes . . . That must be it. Her life would be better without me. After a couple days without seeing me, she'll forget I ever existed._

 _And that's for the best._

As I pass one of the supposedly empty club rooms, I hear a noise inside. Curious, I push open the door a little.

Three kids from an industrial school. They have Hikarizaka uniforms on that barely fit them. They're all smoking pot.

' _Guess they stole some poor kids' uniform and came in acting like they were students._

"'Hell're you doing here?" I open the door wider. "'Don't you have some alley you can do that in; the smell's killing me."

"Crap, we've been busted," a skinny kid with a deep scar down his cheek says. "'Let's get out of here."

"Idiot," The thickest thug pulls himself off the ground, "this punk ain't no delinquent; I haven't seen him punch somebody in years. That girly of his keeps him on a leash."

"I'm not in a good mood," my eyes narrow, "either you get out of this room, or I might just have to crack your skulls open."

"Oooh-hoo, tough guy, huh?" The third stands up, a crowbar in his hands. "Let's waste this loser."

"Hargh!"

The leader throws his fist at me. I side-step him easily and knee him hard in the gut.

"You bastard!"

In retaliation, he tries to land on top of me. I scoot backwards and kick the side of his face. He makes contact with the wall beside me.

"Y-you'll pay for that!"

His buddy comes in fast. He throws punch after punch towards me. One connects with my collarbone. I tumble to the ground, rubbing the point where he hit.

"N-nice work," the leader says, getting up from the ground. "Now, we'll show you what happens when ya mess with my boys."

I fly up from the ground and grapple the kid with the crowbar. When his buddy fires a punch in my direction, I lower my head, causing him to hit his partner. This gives me the time to wrestle the crowbar out of his hands and whack his buddy on the side of his head. He falls to the ground with a thud.

"You want some of this too?" I shout at his friend. "Huh?!"

"Bastard, you'll pay for that!"

He stands up and tries to attack me again. I knock him across the head the same way I got the other one.

The skinny kid looks up at me, fear in his eyes.

"I-I didn't mean to do it, I swear! Th-they wanted to get more drugs, but they couldn't find a way. They had me smuggle some with the boats I can access from my dad's shipping company. Turn me in if ya want, but I didn't have a choice!"

"Too bad," I smirk, "you caught me on a bad day; I'll take you out just like the others."

"N-no, stop it; don't—"

 _Whack._

He falls sideways. Standing above the unconscious thugs, I look at the drugs they were holding.

 _Cheap . . . 'Looks like those connections didn't do him any good._

I unwrap the packaging and stare at the tube for a moment. It wouldn't be hard. I'd be a first-timer; I'd probably be out for hours if I tried one of these things.

 _It's perfect . . . Soon, the pain will all go away . . ._

 _No._

I drop it and slide down to my knees.

 _I can't. I'm not like him; I won't throw my life away for something like this. No matter how hard I try to get away, someone will always care about me._

I stare out the open door.

 _Somewhere . . . There's someone who wouldn't want me to do this._

Without the warning, the door cracks open. Two figures pile in. One's a blond kid I don't recognize, and the other's a familiar face I hadn't expected to see.

"T-Takeshi?"

"Long time no see," he sticks his hands in his pocket and glances over at the bodies.

"Man, how did these guys sneak in?" His blond friend says. "I don't care if they have the uniforms, these dweebs look nothing like students."

"Neither do you," I groan as I stand up from my perch on the ground.

"'Dem's fightin' words, buddy," his features soften for a moment. "Wait, did you take those guys out all by yourself?"

"Yeah," I shrug, "not exactly proud of it, though."

"Wow," he smirks smugly. "That's awesome!"

I look over to Takeshi. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," Takeshi glares at his friend, "this kid kept calling me gay in between classes because I was complaining about the girls. I got sick of it, so he offered me a deal; if I cut class with him and headed over to the 'haunted old school classrooms', he'd admit I was straight."

"Yep," the guy pats him on the back, "I'll say it; you're as straight as me."

"That's the dumbest story I've ever heard," I shake my head.

"I know it's awfully convenient, but it's the truth." He looks at me with concern. "You don't look so good; any reason you down here, messing with the wrong crowd?"

"It's . . . " I bite my lip. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Uh-oh," the blonde guy sighs, "no wonder he's in such bad shape; he doesn't have anyone to talk to."

"What right do you have to be butting in?" I groan.

"'Take it from me, if you don't have someone to vent to, you'll go insane." He crosses his arms. "So, tell Takeshi what's going on, or I'll break your nose."

"Be real; you couldn't lay a finger on me."

"I wouldn't get too cocky, Tomoya," he inclines his head at the blonde kid, "Sunohara Youhei is an up and coming soccer star. I think he could go a round or two with you."

"No kidding," he wraps his arm around Takeshi's back, "now, I wouldn't normally hang out with someone like Takeshi, ya know, since he's an ordinary student, but we're on the soccer team together. He sticks up for me when the older guys try to haze me."

"P.S.," Takeshi whispers loudly, "he's not as tough as he looks."

"Don't go spreading untrue rumors about me!"

"Yeah, yeah," I offer him my hand, "I'm Okazaki Tomoya,"

"Nice to meet you,"

"Same here,"

"'You heading out anytime soon?" Sunohara scrunches up his nose. "The smell's awful in here. 'Sides, if we get caught, the teachers will probably think we had something to do with it."

"Good point," I jog out into the hallway. "In that case, I'm heading out,"

"Tomoya,"

Takeshi stops me in my tracks. "Ya didn't answer my question."

I freeze for a few seconds as the rain starts to make rhythmic tapping noises against the pavement outside. "There's nothing to say; Kotomi and I stopped being friends because I'm a stubborn jackass. That's all there is to know,"

"No it's not," he pulls back on the sleeve of my uniform. "You two have been friends for years; even if she's a girl, I know you two wouldn't just stop being friends. What happened?"

"Nothing," I try to wrestle out of his grasp, "she wanted to do something that I thought was dangerous, and when I got sour about it, she said she didn't want to be friends anymore."

"What the hell did ya say to get that reaction out of her?"

"My point exactly; now let me go!""

"Not until you try to make up with her."

"She's better off without me."

"That's a lie, and you know it."

"When she didn't give me what I wanted, I acted like a total jerk; she doesn't deserve someone like that."

"Who is it who helped out of her depression? Who is it who kept encouraging her, even though he felt pain inside?"

"I was a stupid kid then; I didn't know what's what."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Let me go, Takeshi!"

"Not until I get some answers."

"There's nothing to say!"

"You're not as bad as you say you are!"

"Her life would be better if I wasn't in it!"

"Why? What makes you think she _wants_ this?"

"Because she said so!"

"People say things they don't mean all the time."

"I don't have to answer to you, damnit; let me go, and don't talk to me ever again."

"No,"

The graveness in his voice shocks me so much, I stop resisting.

"I'm taking you back to that classroom, and you're apologizing to Kotomi. You won't stop until things are back to normal between you two."

"Oh yeah," I grimace, "and what if I don't?"

"I'll break your neck,"

A strike of lightning flashes from outside. I blink in realization and break out into a dry laugh.

"Yeah, right; like I'd let you do something like that. You're even crazier than I thought you were."

"He's not alone,"

Sunohara cracks his knuckles. "If you spout off any more of this crap, I'll fight ya too."

I cross my arms. "What beef do you have in this?"

"What can I say? He sticks up for the little guy," he punches Takeshi's shoulder, "besides, unlike him, I've gotten into a couple brawls with punks before. I might just be able to beat you."

"You heard him, Tomoya," Takeshi grabs my arm again, "whether you like it or not, Kotomi's your friend. That's a commitment you should only break in the most dire of circumstances. You let one intense disagreement go to your head because it had been sunshine and rainbows between you two up 'till now. Well, here's a reality check; friends don't give up on each other because they don't agree on something. They try to work things out, no matter what."

I watch him, paralyzed in thought. _He's right; there's no way I'm getting out of this. And every second I stand here, trying to get away from them is another a teacher might find out what's happening. And honestly, I don't wanna get expelled._

I stare Takeshi in the face.

 _I'll try . . . But you're wrong, Takeshi; there's no way things are gonna work between us._

"Alright," I clench my teeth, "I'll try to make things up between us."

Takeshi nods affirmatively.

"But I promise; whatever words are exchanged between us, they'll prove you wrong."


	15. Emotional Ties

**15: Emotional Ties**

 _9:50 AM_

We didn't find out much Wednesday. But frankly, I don't think anyone of us could've done their best when the fear of a two-faced scientist catching on to our investigation skulked in the recesses of our minds.

The only piece of information we found was some biographical information on Dr. Ayashii. According to his account info on the organization's website, he's been an ace all his life. The top of his class in every stage of life, the only thing he never seemed to have was friends. A single child, he had no siblings to socialize it, and he felt isolated from his classmates. Therefore, he made no effort to socialize with them.

 _Which begs the question: why in the world did he befriend someone like Dr. Hiromu?_

I've pondered the question since my guardian and I returned from the lab yesterday, but I still can't find an obvious answer.

Dissatisfied with my lack of progress, I glance at the empty seat nearby.

 _Where is he . . .?_

A twinge of guilt stops my heart. The fatality of the words I said to him rang vividly in my mind. Finally, I'm starting to understand why he's so distraught.

 _He probably won't show up today . . . That's it; the minute school ends for the day, I've got to go see him._

Before second period starts, the door slides open.

 _Tomoya . . .?_

He looks awful. His uniform is ragged, there's a bruise under his collar, and his face is damp with sweat. I open my mouth to speak, but the first person to address him is the class representative.

"Okazaki-san," Hanzo crosses her arms, "where have you been? And what happened to your uniform?"

"Ah—" from behind him, I can hear murmurs, "I-I'm sorry about that. I fell down a couple steps on my way here."

"Hm," she taps her index finger in a steady beat against the crook of her elbow, "even if I were to believe you, it doesn't excuse the fact you were late for class. If that really did happen to you, you should've seen a nurse."

"Yeah, yeah," he waves her off callously, "I'll do better next time, ma'am."

She eyes him warily as he takes his seat. Without sparing a glance my way, he shuffles through his bag, grabs the appropriate textbook, and leans back in his seat.

 _Should I say something . . .? No, I don't think he wants to talk._

Out of the corner of my eye, two freshmen students seem to be ushering him on. When she notices the commotion, Hanzo promptly shoos them out.

I look his way. He looks mine. We promptly face the other way.

 _I don't read a lot of manga . . . And even I can tell this is cliché. Come on, Kotomi, say something to him._

I catch the stark uncertainty in his eyes. Most would find this distressing, but because of how dead he looked before, I find this relieving.

 _He's alive enough to feel . . . something._

After a few minutes, the teacher begins his lecture. I try my best to shift my attention, but I'm diverted between my studies and keeping an eye on Tomoya. When the clock has hit 10:30, I start to realize he probably won't look my way once.

By the time second period ends, I tell myself I'm done with waiting. If he isn't going to take this somewhere, I will.

"Tomoya-san,"

Calling him by a more affectionate honorific might push him away; I need him to be open to this.

"Y-yeah?" For once, he doesn't look away after peering into my eyes.

"We need to talk,"

I stand up from my seat. "Hanzo-san?"

"Hm?" She notices my elevated position. "Yes, Ichinose-san?"

"Is it alright if I talk with Okazaki-san outside for a minute?"

"Well . . ."

She flinches when she perceives the desperation in my eyes.

"A-alright, but be back before the teacher shows up."

"I will," I bow, "thank you."

I drag Tomoya by the sleeve out of the classroom. As I close the door, his expression grows cooler.

"They aren't around anymore; what keeps me from bolting?"

"I trust you not to," I narrow my eyes, "I think we both went too far yesterday."

"No," He turns away, "I'm the cause of this; I'm not like you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You tried to change me, make me something I'm not; tried to convince me I'm more than just a down on his luck delinquent with a useless dad. Well, for a while, I believed you. But Wednesday made it clear to me; I don't belong around someone like you."

"Don't _I_ get a say in this? How is it selfless to disregard other people's opinions of you, just so you can tear yourself down?"

"You don't understand; you're infatuated with someone who isn't there."

He pulls down his collar, the bruise now evident on his neck. "You see this? I got this cause I cut class and decided to mess around in the old school building.

I found a couple guys from the industrial school, and beat the crap out of them for the hell of it."

He lets go of his shirt and hangs his head. Somehow, his voice gets even lower than before. "If it wasn't for how much I hate my father . . . I would've smoked the stuff they had with them."

I raise my arm in his direction. Just like with Hanzo, he waves me off.

"You're trying too hard for someone who doesn't deserve it,"

He places his hand on the door. "You have so many nicer people around you; why is it you stick with me?"

"Those people didn't give me a reason to live when I was absolutely sure I deserved to die."

"Anyone could've done that."

"No. No, not everyone could. Most people would back away from someone in pain, try to be sympathetic, but not truly knowing how to deal with them. They wouldn't talk to me 'till I was feeling better, but you didn't back away when you saw me in pain. You didn't . . . wait for my guardian to make things better. You . . . You told me about something you hate mentioning to anyone. You tried your best to let me know that there was a reason to live, that there were people who cared about me."

I take another step towards him. I expected him to back away.

He didn't.

"Are you trying to tell me that means nothing? Are you trying to say rescuing from all that pain doesn't mean anything, just because you're depressed?"

"No! No, damnit, that's not what I want."

"Then, what do you want?"

"I want to stop getting what I don't deserve! I don't wanna feel obligated, like you're giving up something just to make me happy. I don't wanna be a burden."

He starts to walk down the hallway. If I let him go again, he won't come back. I can feel it. He'll find a way to ease his pain, maybe drugs, maybe alcohol, something that'll temporarily relieve the pain.

He'll be too depressed to ever get out again.

 _I_ have _to stop him._

"No."

I dash in front of him, spreading my arms out.

"I won't let you."

"What the hell are you doing?" He clenches his fists. "Get out of the way, Kotomi."

"No I won't. I'm not letting you run away again. I'm not letting you convince yourself your nothing. I don't just make friends with anyone, Tomoya; you mean a lot to me."

"Oh yeah?" He smirks. "If I'm so great, prove it—"

I wrap my lips around his. My eyes are closed, but I can tell by the contortions of his face that his eyes are wide. I don't care.

 _I didn't want to, but . . . This is . . . Wow . . ._

I tighten my hold on him, scratching my lips against my teeth. Just before I can stick my tongue in his mouth, he backs away.

"Wh-what the hell was that?!"

Blushing, I still manage to keep my composure. I pivot on my back foot and head back towards the classroom.

"Proof,"


	16. Having Been Shoved Out of Depression

**16: Having Been Shoved Out of Depression . . .**

 ** _A/N: I'm sorry for making this chapter a bit short; I've been busy. I extended this chapter a little bit so the ending wasn't quite as abrupt._**

"W-wait!"

That was weird. I don't know why a single thing that just happened, happened. One minute, we were up in each other's faces, and the next, we were making out.

 _Or, she was making out . . . I should be happy about my first kiss, but I literally had no idea it was going to happen._

In any case, I'm not in the right state of mind to leave. There's no way I could enjoy myself elsewhere with this stuff on my mind. Instead, I follow her back inside.

"Okazaki-san," she nods agreeably, "'glad to see you've had a change of heart."

"Yeah, yeah," I wave her off and plop down in my seat. I look at her, she blushes and looks away. As the mental imagery of the kiss floods into my mind, I do the same.

 _This is way too cliché; come on, Tomoya, just ask her about._

"What was that about?"

"Hm?"

She turns her head. "What was what about?"

"You know . . . When we . . . I think you know what I'm talking about,"

Kotomi sighs, clasping her hands above her skirt. "Are all men this oblivious?"

"I know it sounds weird, but bear with me; you kinda did it out of nowhere."

"Not exactly," she meets my gaze more confidently this time, "think about the surrounding context."

"We were in the thick of an argument, and you tried to French-kiss me. Unless you were trying to shut me up, I don't see how this makes any more sense contextually than it does otherwise."

"Well . . . you're half-right."

Kotomi peels open a textbook and skims through our assigned material. Sighing, I face the blackboard in front of me.

When lunch period comes around, I shift back her way.

"Hey,"

Her eyes don't reveal her emotions any more than they did before. "Yeah?"

"I-I was wondering," I scratch the back of my head, "since, well, we're kinda trying to work things out, maybe we could eat lunch together?"

She looks down at her lap. "I don't know . . . If you aren't interested, you don't have to."

"No, I, kinda wanna try and make things right."

A happier gleam passes over her eyes. She packs up her bags and follows me out.

"I . . . You probably find it kind of suspicious I'm doing a total 180, huh?"

"It's only fair," she smirks, "after all, my kiss was out of the blue. Why wouldn't it produce a sudden change in you?"

"So, you do admit there was no reason for me to expect it."

"Not exactly. Call it a compromise, if you will."

"I guess I'll accept that . . ."

"Kotomi-chan, Tomoya-san!"

Kanna dashes in front of us. I face palm in anticipation.

"What's with that face?" She frowns. "I'm not some little sister who's poking her nose in her big brother's business."

"You may be our age, but the disposition you have is about the same."

"Awfully cocky for a guy who's totally screwed up these past couple days."

"Hey, I admit it," I shrug, "I messed up big time. If Kotomi-chan didn't insist I stick around, I would've broken the whole thing off."

Kanna raises her eyebrow at Kotomi. "You two okay, then?"

"Yeah," Kotomi glances awkwardly at me, "I think so."

"Well . . . " She shakes her head. "Alright, but I'll be keeping an eye on this idiot from now on."

"Go ahead," I smile, "you won't find any dirt on me anymore."

"I'd save that self-confidence for a later date," she jogs down the hallway. "Well, I'll leave you two to your own devices. See you later, Kotomi-chan,"

"Bye, Kanna-chan," Kotomi waves as she heads down the stairs.

"I act brusque, but I can't blame her for getting on my case for that."

"I can't either," she giggles, "I'm okay with giving you a second chance, though."

"And I'm thankful for that," I look down at the ground, "still questioning whether I deserve this, though—"

"That's not the point,"

She grabs my hands. "The point is, _I'm_ willing to forgive you, even if you can't forgive yourself. Do I have to give you another kiss to get that point across?"

"N-no,"

"Good," she pecks me on the cheek and continues down the hallway.

"You know, it doesn't exactly fit with the cliché that you're the one who keeps kissing me."

"Truth is stranger than fiction, Tomoya-kun."

"True that . . ."

As we enter the cafeteria, I notice Takeshi and Sunohara watching us from inside the crowd. Sunohara winks at Takeshi and approaches Kotomi and me.

"Hey Okazaki," Sunohara gives me a fist-bump, "and you must be Kotomi."

"Yes," she bows, offering me a curious sideways glance, "nice to meet you."

"You probably don't remember me," Takeshi bows, "but I've been Tomoya's pal since middle school."

"Oh, don't worry Takeshi," Kotomi pats his shoulder, "I know who you are."

"Heh heh, why am I not surprised . . .?"

"So, Okazaki," Sunohara puts his hands in his pockets, "we were wondering if you'd like to eat with us." He nudges Takeshi in the shoulder. "This guy's alright and all, but if I had to spend an entire lunch period with him, I'd go nuts."

"Well . . ." I have to admit, the offer's tempting. Honestly, I'm not all that comfortable eating with Kotomi after what just happened. I know I have to make things up to her, but maybe she'd be more comfortable eating elsewhere.

"Nah,"

Nevertheless, I feel it's too late to back down now.

"I've already got a date," I put my arm around Kotomi's shoulders.

"Pfft," Takeshi groans, "when did you guys get so lovey-dovey?"

"Right answer," Sunohara gives us a thumbs up, "I'm glad you passed our test meant to prove your worth—"

"Quiet, idiot," Takeshi smothers Sunohara with a back fist. "No problem; see you guys later."

"Yeah . . ." I grin. "See ya,"

The two disappear into the sea of students waiting for lunch.

"You know," I cross my arms, "if I wanted to, I could probably get that idiot to rush in there and grab us a couple sandwiches. It would save us a lot of trouble . . ."

"It wouldn't be right," Kotomi shakes her head, "if you really want someone else to get lunch for you, I'll do it."

She starts to walk over to the line when I place both hands on her shoulders.

"That wouldn't be right," I chide her, "you need rest after studying so hard. I can take a little time out of my free schedule to help out."

"In that case, thank you," she waves me off as I join the ocean of indistinct faces around me.

As sitcom contrivance would have it, Hanzo Yuichi is right in front of me.

"Not again," he spits at my feet, "you've caused enough trouble."

"Hey, I was in a bad mood." I laugh. "I'm sure you can relate to that; it seems to be a permeant phase with you."

"Oh, please," he rolls his eyes, "you've got bigger things to worry about than my attitude. You know how long Coach is gonna lecture us when we get there?"

"Not as long as he's gonna lecture you,"

"How did you come to that irrational conclusion?"

"He likes me better; I'm his star pupil."

" . . . You do remember who it is you're talking to, right?"

"Freakishly tall, has hair that might as well be dreadlocks, and is so insecure in his skill, he keeps boasting about it to his teammates. Yeah, I know who I'm talking to."

He raises a fist in my direction and then sighs. "You're lucky Coach has us on a tight leash; I'd kick the crap out of you otherwise."

"It's not a total loss," I shrug innocently, "as Coach would say in one of his better moods 'save it for the court!'."

"Don't worry," he cracks his knuckles, "I won't hold back a thing."

After a miserable fifteen minutes in line, I join Kotomi at our lunch table.

 _What now . . .? That's right; the reason this whole conflict started in the first place._

"Kotomi-chan?"

She swallows the anpan in her mouth. "What?"

 _It's kinda hard to say this, especially since I don't really believe it's true, but I trust her guardian . . . Everything should be fine._ "I shouldn't have tried to run your life. If you wanna go after the guys who might've planned the plane crash, that's your decision."

She nods. "I agree with you, but I overreacted, too. After all, you have good reason to be worried."

Her eyes narrow. "Even so, I am going to continue in my endeavors; even if you don't want me to."

"Understood," _'Better change the topic before I start questioning myself,_ "have you heard from Nagisa-san?"

Kotomi smiles. "She's doing well. The club president thinks she has some room to improve, but she did make it onto the clubroom. He likes her enthusiasm."

"'Glad to hear it," I feel crimson stain my cheeks. "I have one more question, though . . ."

"What's that?"

"About the . . . what we did back in . . ."

I bite hard on my lip. "Are we . . .?"

"Um . . ." Her face turns almost as red as mine. "Since I was the one who was forward, I'll apologize about the kiss."

"Okay," I lean back in my chair. "That seems fair."

"But," she stuffs the rest of the bread in her mouth. "Let's hold off on the whole dating thing for a little while."


	17. A Universe Beyond Our Own

**17: A Universe Beyond Our Own**

 _2:52 PM_

Was it awkward? Yes. Bittersweet? Definitely. Do I think there are a couple things we still need to work out? Absolutely.

But reconnecting with Tomoya has put me in the best mood I've had since the beginning of the semester. And even with all the bureaucratic intrigue and mystery surrounding my parents' lab, that's something I still can be thankful for.

After parting ways with Tomoya after school, I come across Nagisa on her way to the drama club room. She has a thoughtful, collected look in her eyes, like she's trying the best she can not to forget something.

"Good afternoon, Nagisa-chan,"

"Good afternoon, Kotomi-chan,"

More than a little formal for Nagisa. I have a little bit of time before I have to head back home to attend the science lab; I might as well ask her what's up.

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, in a couple days, the Club President is going to be holding auditions for the play we're working on this semester. I really wanna perform on stage, but for me, a lot of the pre-scripted plays don't ring true to me. I always feel too distant to play the part well."

As someone who has easily found herself whisked away in the stories of knights, wizards, and the civil rights movement, I can't relate to her sentiment at all.

Nevertheless, I try my best.

"What do these auditions entail?"

"According to the Club President, we need to prepare a dramatic monologue." She shuts her eyes dramatically, surely in imitation of the aforementioned President.

"He said that dramatic monologues are thoughtful explorations of the character's psyche and help display his or her flaws, merits, and self-contradictions for the audience to digest. He also wants us to incorporate lots of blocking in our performances; most people like to move when they talk, after all."

"So, you need to pick out a monologue," I conclude, "do you have anything in mind?"

"THAT'S what I'm worried about," she nods nervously, "the idea I'm going to ask him about isn't exactly a dramatic monologue."

"Oh?" Curiosity sketches a plain and simple message on my face. "What did you pick instead?"

"It's kind of hard to explain, but it's a story that's been swirling around in my head for years now . . . " She takes in a large gust of air, vibrating the strands of loose hair on the top of her head, "It's about a girl who lives in a desolate world; the people she loved and cared about in the land disappeared long ago, and as a result, she has nothing to do, and nowhere to go."

"But one day, she gets tired of being lonely and assembles a toy doll out of junk from a nearby pile. Suddenly, through the sheer power of her desire to find a companion, the doll becomes inhabited with the soul of a person who once used to live in this world."

I have to admit, for something she came up with herself, it's actually very interesting.

 _A bit cheesy, yes, but still entertaining. But, there's something about it that seems so familiar . . ._

"You did come up with this story yourself, right?"

"As far as I know," she giggles, "I think I would've remembered if my mom and dad read it to me when I was younger. My memory's not that great, but I'm sure at least one of us would've remembered something like that."

"I agree," I shake my head, "is there anything else in your story?"

"Well . . . after getting to know each other, the girl and the doll realize the world they're living in is starting to fall apart. Winter is coming, and with it comes a bitter cold that neither the girl nor the doll will survive. So, the two vow to make a machine out of the few resources available on the lonely planet to create a machine to take them out of their predicament."

 _Yes, this is_ excellent _for something she just made up._ "What's the climax?"

Glazed, she watches me for a few seconds. Finally, she summons the urge to let out an awkward giggle. "Ehe, ehe,"

"What's wrong?"

"Sorry," she clasps her hands in front of her skirt, "to be honest with you, I don't really know what happens after that."

 _. . . Nagisa-chan, no offense, but I don't think the Club President will appreciate you reciting lines from an unfinished work of fiction._

"I have to admit, depending on the type of person your President is, he may not let you use that concept."

"That's my problem," she sighs, "it's too bad, because I could come up with a really good monologue from what I remember of that story?"

"Really?" My irises flicker in interest. I feel my adrenaline stand on edge, and my hair bobs up and down as I anticipate her performance. "Show me,"

Just as before, she inhaled and exhaled before beginning her performance.

" _With the scattered pieces I'd collected from the old junkyard forty yards away from the cabin, I'd constructed a crude metal doll. Its eyes were misshapen, its head slumping to one side of its body, and its legs obviously lopsided. But I'd done the best I could; I was no mechanic. And even if I was, I would've forgotten my skills long ago because at some point I'd realize there was no place for them in a world without life."_

" _I watched my 'companion' for several minutes, trying to discern whether there was life in its eyes, whether there was the urge to get off the worn cabin floor and explore. There was so much I wanted to share with him when he was ready; I wanted to talk about the old world, the lights, the animals, the cities, and the cars."_

" _And most of all; the people."_

" _These thoughts filled me with warmth, until a harsh, bitter reality dawned upon me. I had been waiting for ten minutes now, and the doll had not moved an inch."_

" _I was wrong; my companion was as thin and fleeting as the old deaf dog I met years ago who died when he accidentally stepped off one of the steep cliff sides here. It was fun to talk to him and teach him how others would in the old world, but nothing came of it. He passed; there was no going back to save him anymore."_

" _Yes, he had died, and I was going to have to accept that fact."_

" _Worse, I was going to have to come to terms with how this doll was little more than a petty dream. For, what point is there in wishing for something that never comes true?"_

" _The world I lived in was no place for any person. It was cold, dark, and colorless. I can't gleam a single shred of optimism from this visceral purgatory. If I'm to be held here until God calls me to the afterlife, I'm tempted to accelerate the process._

" _As these dark thoughts flooded my subconscious, I leave the metal doll where it stands (sits). This thing has no meaning to me as it could never have true meaning in a world like this; nothing will become of my little mechanical friend I'd spent God knows how long building."_

" _So, I left. Well . . . I would have; had a miracle not reminded me that life was still worth living."_

" _The sound was hideous; like an assembly line running its last production cycle for the day."_

" _But the noise was music to my ears. I watched in total, unfiltered awe as the mechanical child tried to take its first steps."_

" _Inevitably, the poor thing didn't know how. I tried to teach it the way I best recalled, but it refused to listen to me."_

" _Instead, the metal creature had something to say:"_

"' _Why was I born here? What . . . what am I meant to do?'"_

" _I allowed the being to continue. It would be rude of me to cut off my first real friend in ages before he'd finished speaking."_

"' _You . . . You're the only one here . . . I don't know how, but you can understand me.'"_

" _In truth, I couldn't fathom a word of what the poor thing said. I only knew it was talking by the repeated noises it made when its right arm crashed against its head. But . . . somehow, I knew its desires before it spoke them."_

" _Maybe that's because I'm its creator; how can I ever know for sure?"_

"' _Please . . . tell me . . . what purpose do I have for being here?'"_

" _There was something about that voice I knew; maybe it was the odd way he pronounced 'sure', maybe it was the rust he put on two syllable words. I didn't know either way."_

" _So, in response to his question, I answered the only thing I could think of:"_

" _I would like you . . . to take me to the place where wishes come true."_

 _In our world, Kotomi, there are millions of tiny pockets in space and time known as 'harps'._

 _What?!_

I pull away from Nagisa.

"Kotomi-chan?" She begs. "Was it that bad?"

"N-no . . ." I reply as slowly and calmly as I can. "In fact, I loved every second of it. I'm sure if you recite some of that to the President, he'll allow it for your audition."

"I'm glad you think so," she takes a peek at the clock above us. "Well, I better get going. See you later, Kotomi-chan."

"Good-bye, Nagisa-chan,"

She disappears in the course of 11 seconds exactly. 'Funny how my mind picks up on little things like that when I'm solely concentrated right now on something totally different.

 _It wasn't a story . . . Something that had been in her head for years . . ._

 _A desolate world . . . With no one inside it . . ._

 _The pockets my parents talked about it . . . Is it all connected?_

 _And if it is . . . Why?_


	18. Friendly Rivalry

**18: A Friendlier Rivalry**

 _3:15_

"That's it . . . now, side-step . . . reach your arm out—no, not that one!"

Yuichi skips away from my futile attempt to recover the ball and aims for the hoop.

"Too bad, Okazaki," he grins, "looks like I win aga—"

Just then, I dive for the ball. His cocky attitude might give me chance I need to take it from him.

He tries his best to bring his body backward. But my move is too sudden for him to properly react.

As I hit the ground, I knock the ball away from him. It bounces a couple times before landing in Aito's hands.

"Hey, glad to see you two are getting along."

Yuichi raises his eyebrow as he offers me a hand up. "Only as much as teammates have to. If I didn't start getting along with this punk, Coach would kick me out."

"Hey, hey," I laugh, hands on my knees, "even you can _admit_ that move I just pulled was sweet."

"Yeah, yeah," he waves his hand, "but it wouldn't be practical if you failed. All you'd have for your trouble then is a banged up body."

I shrug. "Sometimes, you have to take risks."

"Once you improve your physical capabilities to a certain point," he motions for Aito to toss the ball back to him, "you don't need to take risks. Let's keep going,"

"Good luck, man," Aito waves before returning with his practice group. I bend my knees and prepare for the next match.

 _Alright, Tomoya . . . Keep a clear head; don't let that move just know make you overconfident. He's still a better player than you, probably by far. If I let up even for a second, he'll exploit it._

"3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . go!"

 _Now!_

He dribbles the ball to his right, sprinting as fast as he can towards that side of the field. I follow suit. I may be a half-step behind him, but he doesn't have enough room to slip by me.

He's also realized he can't just bull-rush me like he had before. The last time he tried that, he lost the ball.

Near the penalty zone, Yuichi attempts to pass through the empty space between me and the sidelines. I shift forward, nudging him back a couple inches. Using the same momentum he's already accumulated, he dashes in the opposite direction.

 _Damn, ¾ step in front of me._

However, it's still not enough for him to confidently get past me. So instead, he moves forward at an incline.

He doesn't get far, but it's closer to the hoop than he was a second ago. Without any warning, he jumps upwards.

I bring my arm up as high as I can to intercept his shot. Before I can—

"*Whistle*"

Coach places his hands on his hips. "Alright, boys, gather up for a minute."

Yuichi lands on the ground with a thud. Before sitting on the cold floor with the rest of the guys, he offers me a curt nod.

"As you all know, in just a few short days, we'll be playing our first game. Our opponents are known for having some of the tallest high school players in the country, so if we're going to win, we'll have ta beat 'em through skill."

He pulls his cap down over his eyes.

 _What a ham._ "Unfortunately, I've noticed a lot of ya are getting lazy. You had a lot of enthusiasm at the beginning of the semester, but whether it's school or somethin' else, yer slowin' down. I'm not saying all of ya are guilty, but it's a trend I've noticed."

He crosses his arms. "I'm givin' you guys a fifteen minute break ta regain your strength. But if you ain't workin' every bone in your body when I send ya back, I'll have your heads."

 _Wow . . ._ The sweat on the back of my neck feels chiller than I remember. _I didn't know he could get so intense._

"That being said," he claps his hands, "break time."

Murmurs spread amongst my teammates as several retreat to the locker rooms to dry off. A couple others take a swig from the Gatorade they brought. I start to follow the former when I hear different voices from behind me.

 _Is . . . Is that the Class Rep.?_

In the shadowed hallway that leads to the gym's exit, Yuichi and his sister seem to be in the middle of an argument.

 _I guess that explains her attitude a while back . . . With a brother like him, I guess I don't blame them._

Their voices rise, making their dialogue semi-audible.

 _. . . I know it's rude, but I can't stand back and watch. Yuichi needs to learn a lesson._

"Hey,"

I call out to the both of them. Their attention immediately turns to me.

 _This is . . . awkward . . ._ "Lay off, Yuichi; why does it matter if she came to watch?"

"None of your business, Okazaki," he spits on the ground, "head to the locker rooms. Now."

"Not 'till I figure out what's going on,"

I stare at Yuki for a moment. "You okay?"

"Y-yes," after recovering her composure, her face contorts into a harsher expression than I've ever seen before. "I appreciate your concern, but Yuichi-san is right; this is none of your concern."

"It is when my teammate's acting like a jerkass to his sister."

Yuichi pulls me towards him by the collar. "You just keep mouthing off, buddy. Another word, and I'll make sure you never show up for practice again."

"Stop it,"

She snaps. "You're making a scene,"

Yuichi rolls his eyes and shoves me away. "You have no idea what's going on here; if she wanted you here, she would have asked."

I still don't like what's going on, but it's not like they'll tell me. Besides, I've gotten into enough trouble for getting a 'holier-than-thou' attitude. "Alright, sorry for interrupting,"

I jog to the locker rooms as fast as I can.

"Okazaki," Taiuchi raises his eyebrow as I throw a towel across my shoulders. "What took you so long?"

"Nothing," I lie, "just lost in thought."

"You can tell us, man," Aito says, "not like any of us are gonna tell Hanzo."

"Huh?"

I turn his way.

"How did you know who he was talking to?" Taiuchi sticks out his lip.

"'Noticed it out of the corner of my eye. He and his twin sister were getting at it again."

"'Twin' sister?"

"Yeah," Taiuchi says, "didn't you ever wonder why they looked so alike?"

"What's going on with them?"

"Who knows; I've only caught a couple things. One thing's for sure, though; Yuichi does _not_ want his sis watching us practice."

"Why?"

"Like I said, who knows?" He shuts the locker and turns the dial so it locks. "Either way, it's apparently hurt their relationship pretty bad. 'You know her sister?"

"Not exactly," I admit, "the only reason I know about her is because she's in my class. The weird thing about it all is,"

I throw my back against my locker, rattling its contents more than I intended. "When I first laid eyes on her, she just seemed like your typical, snobbish high school student . . ."


	19. Suspects

**19: Suspects**

 _4:00 PM_

"I'll be brief,"

My guardian leans his arm against the right side of Dr. Hunan's desk. His face is perfectly composed, showing not a hint of doubt or fear.

"With Dr. Matsumoto's help, I was able to access confidential documents within the company website."

I slap a hand against my face.

"Really?" Dr. Hunan asks, shreds of optimism in her voice. "What did you find?"

"Not as much as I'd like; most of it was financial information."

He leans his head closer to our ears. "However, at the end of the document, Dr. Ishihara was carrying a conversation with an anonymous comrade. And apparently, he-"

"Did someone mention my name?"

The Old Spice deodorant should have been a giveaway, but Dr. Ishihara had somehow managed to sneak up on us. How much he'd heard was another question entirely

"It's impolite to listen in on other people's conversations, Dr. Ishihara," Dr. Hunan adjusts her glasses in a lecturing manner.

In response, the programmer stretches his arms above his head. "Yeah, I _was_ hanging out in my cubicle until I sneezed. I'm pretty those gusts of air that leave our mouths are actually messages from other dimensions that people are gossiping about us."

Throwing his back against the narrow width on the office's right wall, he smirks. "Now, tell me what you're dealing in; I won't report ya for hacking into those confidential documents if ya do."

 _Damn._ My hair hangs over my face. _We're doomed . . ._

"To be perfectly honest," Dr. Nishimura crosses his arms, "we're investigating into the possibility that some of our co-workers conspired to murder Kotomi's parents. After what I discovered, you're one of my prime suspects."

" . . . W-wow," he chuckles humorlessly, "that got dark real quick."

"Don't play games with us, Ishihara," Dr. Hunan frowns, "what do you know?"

His uneven fingers claw deep into his scalp. "L-look, guys, I may be a bit unscrupulous, but you're suggesting I'm an accessory to murder?"

"At this point, our suspicions are more of an inference, but, yes."

Dr. Ishihara pokes his head around the walls of the cubicle. Judging that no one around us has turned away from their work, he rejoins the conversation.

"I know what you guys are getting at; I've batted around this idea myself." He takes in a deep breath. "But the Ichinoses weren't stupid; Dr. Hiromu stepped out of line a couple times during the project's early days, but they wouldn't have given him so much power."

"Purer souls have proven corrupt," Dr. Nishimura frowns.

"Yeah, but Dr. Hiromu's laying it on thick. It's way too obvious he's on to something. Why would he want you guys following his footsteps?"

It's too much for even me to process at once. "You haven't seen the progress we've made; it's minimal, but even if Dr. Hiromu _isn't_ a suspect, there are others who could definitely be involved."

He puts his hands on his hips. "Are you trying to shut down this project before it even kicks off? You report this to the police, and we'll never set foot in this lab again. You wanna damage everything they set up because you have a supposition?"

"Considering your behavior, it's more than a supposition," Dr. Hunan nods to herself. "If you don't give us a better explanation, I don't give a damn what happens to this project; those responsible will be brought to justice."

"Quit acting so high and mighty," Ishihara snaps, "you're not so high and mighty yoursel-"

"Gentlemen,"

Dr. Hiromu sips daintily from a tea cup several feet behind us. Just like Ishihara, he watched much of our conversation unnoticed.

"I don't know anything about any conspiracy, or the possibly contrived nature of the Ichinoses' death, but it does us no good to wallow in the past."

For the first time in a long time, Dr. Hiromu's face creases into a scowl. "If you want to pick at straws and make fallacious hypotheses based on them, be my guest; but don't do so in _my_ lab."

He slurps the remaining tea from his cup, sticks the plate in one pocket and the cup in another, and returns to his office on the opposite side of the room. Dr. Ishihara meekly escapes the cubicle.

"Dr. Ishihara,"

I speak up this time. "You still haven't answered our question."

He keeps his hands deep in his pockets, but he refuses to speak. Finally, he lets everything out.

"If you got ol' Matsumoto working on this, it means you found the web page."

Even my guardian's eyes visibly flare. Ironically, I'm the only one to keep my composure. "Who created it?"

"I don't know; I'm logged in to every corner of the internet that's talkin' about us; it's inevitable I'd find it no matter how fast he took it down."

"That wasn't my question," I tilt my glasses up my face, "who. is. he?"

"I don't know; honest." His face hasn't looked into mine once. "I kept it secret 'cause I figured it was just a joke. It wasn't 'till a few days ago he popped up again."

"How do you know it's the same person?" Dr. Nishimura inquires.

"The server he's using has got some weird modifications on it; it's easy for me to track."

 _That's . . . That's all he knows?_

I do my best to keep tears from my eyes. _No . . . after everything that's happened, I can't let this go . . . He has to know._

 _He has . . . to . . ._

"You're lying!"

I grab hold of both sides of his collar. "Tell me everything! Now!"

"Th-that's all I got; those mods I mentioned keep me from finding anything else about him. I don't know if he's working on the project, or someone else who found a way to get in; I know nothing!"

"Why did you wait until now?" I can't stop; I need to know. "Why didn't you tell me the moment I found out about this?"

"I don't have anything to go off of; this guy has said some really creepy stuff, but it could just be a pile of crap. I don't know if he's joking or not; it could be a sophisticated spam bot for all I know."

"You're the smartest programmer I know!"

I fall down to my knees. "You have to know something. Please . . . tell me everything . . ."

I break out into uncontrollable sobbing. Dr. Hunan tries her best to comfort me, but I'm not willing. My guardian returns his gaze to Dr. Ishihara.

"If I recall what I saw in the document, you joked about the incident as well." His voice turns stone cold. "What purpose did _that_ serve?"

"I wanted to goad him into saying more; but he was totally unhelpful. He popped up a couple more times in that document, and then he totally disappeared."

"Regarding your venue," Dr. Hunan taps the finger on her left hand against her right arm. "Why _were_ you discussing this with the suspect on our financial documents?"

He throws up his arms. "Guilty as charged; I was a bit thrown off by Dr. Hiromu's weird behavior, too, so I wanted to crunch the numbers and make sure they added up. No reason for suspicions there."

 _Hypocrite . . . You complete and utter hypocrite . . ._

"I'm sorry, but I can't stay here any longer;" He looks both ways. "I don't know who else might be watching."

He disappears without a sound.


	20. In his own World

**20: In his own World**

 _4:48_

 _Tomoya_

I'm home again.

Dads not at the sink or snoozing next to the radio, so he's gotta be in his bedroom.

 _Maybe this is too fast . . . I mean, what if he's not ready? I can't just up and be nice to him without explanation; it might fracture what little's left between us._

I shake my head. _That might be valid if I lived in a world where we were the only people left. Kotomi's counting on me to change; this is the first step to something better._

I ascend to the second floor in our modest establishment. The alcohol odor is present but faint; he's nearing the end of his nap.

 _Maybe I should just wait . . . No, that's just an excuse._

Breathing in as deep as I can, I push the door open.

 _Just as I thought._

My dad is sleeping front side on his bed. Saliva drips from the bottom of his lips, and his glasses are tilted, in danger of getting crushed under his skull. I wonder how long exactly he's been like this; it can't be good for his posture.

I walk over to the side of his bed. Despite how decrepit and sloppy his body is, I actually think this is one of the few times he feels at peace. It would simply be a crime to wake him up at this point.

 _Now, you're just being ridiculous._

As I turn him over, I whisper gently in my father's ear.

"Dad, wake up,"

"Uh . . . I don't wanna talk . . ."

"Huh?" I bring my mouth away from his ear.

"Please . . . That won't change anything . . . All that's left is me and the boy . . ."

My eyes go wide. _Is he . . .?_

"I can't let you . . . No, I'm a grown man now. Only a fool can't take care of his son on his own . . . No, I don't want you to call this house ever again. He's my boy, and I'll do whatever the hell I want with him!"

Without warning, he throws his body up into a sitting position. His eyes are wide open and the veins his forehead are prepped to explode.

"You didn't know her! She wanted us to be happy! I'm going to take care of the boy if it's the last thing I do! And I won't let you, or anyone else help me in fulfilling her wish! Do you understand?"

Another long, long pause. I can tell by the tone of the conversation there isn't much else to say.

". . . No, I, I'll treat him better than that . . . She'll always be on my mind, but . . . somehow . . . I know he'll do better with me. He's . . . he's a good kid; I'll treat him well . . . yeah, thank you. But . . . he's my son. A father's only duty in life is . . . to take care of his son."

The conversation ends. My father's eyes close, then slowly start to open. He sees me at his bedside, and his signature smile returns.

"I'm glad you woke me up," he wipes the tears out of his eyes. "I have a job interview with a nearby grocery store in a—

I'm out the door. I shut the thing behind me and leave my hand on the doorknob.

 _Why . . . Why did I hear that? I thought I knew everything about him . . ._

He's quiet, but I can hear my dad talk from behind this door. He says,

"No . . . don't tell me I was having a . . . no . . ."


	21. Necessary Distractions

**21: Necessary Distractions**

 _Kotomi_

 _Nothing._

It's 10:00 at night now. I've been puzzling over everything that was said at the lab, but I can't find a conceivable connection between them.

 _Not to mention how dubious Ishihara-san's story is . . . Once lies factor into my calculations, there's just no hope._

My guardian had other work to take care of, but he aided me at first. After his initial reluctance, he was finally able to acknowledge that this mysterious atmosphere bears further investigation. There were times I wondered if he would ever open his eyes to the danger right at our doorstep, but it seems I underestimated him.

 _Tomoya might like to know about these development, too . . . Maybe I should give him a ring._

I open the door and jog downstairs to the living room. Punching in his phone number, I wait patiently.

Six rings pass and nothing. Before I can hang up, a raspy, weary voice comes out of the receiver.

"H-hello?"

 _It's his Dad._

I bring the phone up to my ear. "Good evening, Okazaki-san. This is Ichinose Kotomi, calling for your son, Tomoya. Is he available right now?" _Darn, I sound too formal._

"I-I'm afraid Tomoya's not here right now." He says sheepishly. "He had a rather . . . strange nightmare and bolted out of the house."

 _What?_ I clenched my hold on the phone tighter. "Do you know where he went?"

"I . . . I wish I knew. He's been all over town before, I, I have no idea where he could be."

"He's your son," I retort, teeth clenched. "Shouldn't you know?!"

"We haven't been close in a long, long time. I don't usually leave the house and . . . Oh, there's no excuse for it. He's gone, and he won't come back until he feels like it."

I slam the phone on its hook.

 _No . . . He's coming back, whether he likes it or not._

 _Postea_

"'Furukawa Bakery'?"

My guardian repeated, his right hand's grip on the steering wheel growing ever tighter. "Why would he be there?"

"He visits when he's in a bad mood." I nod to myself. "Even if he's already done, it should give us a lead to where he is now."

"If you're sure,"

The short ride there is tense. After seeing what Tomoya was like the last time he got so upset, I can't let him get away from me again.

 _No matter what._

He swerves to a stop once we reach the side walk bordering the bakery. He agreed to wait in the car while I asked Furukawa Akio where he ran off to.

I push open the door and approach the eccentric man behind the counter. Normally, his expressions are fierce and snarly, but today, he looks grim.

 _I knew it . . . He has been here._

"You're looking for Okazaki, aren't ya?"

As I bite my lip, he puts a pile of change back in the cash register.

"I understand you're worried about em; frankly, I'm worried what kind of crap that kid's getting up too. But I don't know if seeing you would change his mind."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"Kid's struggling to what to make of his Dad. 'Guy's been kinda abusive in the past, and he's more than a little chaotic today. It's probably that drinking problem. After all, not everyone can hold their liquor as well as me."

Realizing the joke is in poor taste, he sighs. "'Fact is, I think he needs some time to thin alone. Seeing you won't make his decision any easier."

"That might be true for most people, but I can help him. He's my best friend, and I know I can be there for him at this point."

"You know better than I do, kid," he drops his baseball bat on the ground. "Tomoya may act all cheek 'round his friends, but he ain't no extrovert. Personal stuff like this, it might be better if you let him be."

I hang my head. "I'm surprised you're taking his side here."

"You didn't see his face or hear the way he spoke," he put his hands on his hips. "It's your life, you can do whatever you want. Who knows, maybe talking to you _will_ change his mind. But I wouldn't suggest it."

"Where did he go?"

My quick response surprises him. Admittedly, I'm shocked I haven't lost a shred of my resolve. "I think he's hanging out at the park near the little school downtown. It's not far, so if you need an escort, I can take you there."

"That's alright; I have a ride."

Before leaving, I drop 300 yen coins on his counter.

"For the information,"

Akio just smiles.

 _Postea_

"Kotomi?"

My guardian grabs my shoulder. "Give him space; I don't know how willing he'll be to talk."

"I know," I say curtly.

Once again, I close the car door behind me and walk to the center of the park. A streetlight on the perimeter of the park is the only thing that illuminates my approach.

At the center of the park, blood dripping from his arm, stands Tomoya.

"Why . . ." He mutters. "Why are you here?"


	22. Crossing the Bridge

**22: Crossing the Bridge**

 _Tomoya_

"I'm sorry if I scared you,"

After a long, frightening pause, I finally decide to speak up. She won't leave if I keep quiet, and there's no room to run away.

"I'm just dealing with something personal, that's all."

Kotomi's eyes waver, shifting from my face to the nearby swing set. "Is there . . . something you need to tell me?"

I know what's she trying to say, but she sounds awfully interrogative. Her tone won't get her answers.

Years back, I'd given her an idea of what my home life was like. I didn't go into depth, but I told her enough to comfort her. As I said back then, I know she's gone through worse than me. There's no reason for me to be so covert with my feelings.

 _But that dream . . . I know it wasn't just something his fragile mind made up. It was real . . . probably something he told someone the year the accident happened._

I already felt conflicted about my father before this. How am I supposed to feel now?

 _Has he really been that bad . . .? I mean, would it be that hard to forgive him? Hasn't he been trying to get a job lately?_

The memory of broken glass, a closed fist, and a bruised cheek flash through my mind.

 _Then again . . . How could he possibly make up for something like that? He's too broken now to even try._

"Tomoya-kun . . . "

A smile flashes across my face. "You don't need to worry. I'm just fine,"

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't lie to me,"

She narrows her eyebrows. "We're best friends, remember? You can tell me anything."

I grimace. "I don't suppose Pops put you up to this, did he?"

"On the contray, he actually suggested I leave you be."

"Huh," I sit down on a nearby merry-go-round. "I admit, I didn't see that coming."

She takes a seat beside me. The scent of her shampoo is dull, but it's carried over to me by the cool breeze. It brings red to my cheeks.

"So, how's the investigation going?"

"Complicated," she sighs, hands clasped, "we've got a lot of new material to work with, but nothing concrete. We think our computer geek, Dr. Ishihara, may be involved in something, but we don't know what. Evidence from him also traces to one of the Project Head's co-workers."

"That does sound complicated."

"Dr. Ishihara had been using a classified document to communicate with other members of the project under an anonymous name. We discovered the man said some things that, if taken at face value, may link to my parents' murder."

I chuckle humorlessly. "Wow,"

"What is it?"

"Looks like I was wrong to doubt you," I cross my arms, "I'm sorry I tried to restrain you."

"I know why you did it," she stares out into the open air. "Still, I'm glad you finally gave up on it."

The lighter comment brings an earnest laugh from me. "Yeah, I am too. What are you planning to do now?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure," She clenches her fist, "we need to tread carefully. If Dr. Hiromu is involved in what happened, he'll do whatever it takes to keep it under wraps. I don't want someone with his power and authority hot on our trail, especially since he heard the tense conversation we had with Dr. Ishihara."

"That does sound like it'll be pretty hard to avoid."

"We'll have to work behind closed doors from now on," she nods to herself, "the office may not be safe. Luckily, we have a computer specialist unconnected to the organization who really knows his stuff. He's made serious headway in forerunning this investigation. With a little more time, he might even be able to trace that mysterious web page I found way back."

"Right," I say, "it makes more sense that would be connected to a conspiracy anyway. Most people who like to mouth off like that wouldn't have been so private about it. And if the police took it down, it definitely would have been in the news."

"Exactly. If he can determine the space in the internet that website resided in, he might be able to track the computer that created it."

"'Sounds like a plan," I put my hands to my right and left sides and turn my head towards her. "If you need my help with something, I'm all ears. My intellectual skill set may be minute compared to yours, but I know a few tricks."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind,"

I know I won't be any help in this scenario. And that's what scared me during the time I got so hung up about this. If Dr. Hiromu gets onto her, I'll have no way of helping things. Anything I might be able to would just help her enemies. After all, the law is totally unaware of what's probably going on behind those facility doors.

 _Come on, Tomoya, calm down. Think of something comforting; something that'll take your mind off everything._

Once I finish with my own thoughts, I'm reminded I'm still looking at her. Judging by the expression on her face, she hasn't left my gaze since I first started.

 _She really is beautiful . . . I just wish I had the guts to say it . . ._

Still, looking into those eyes tells me there's nothing to worry about. If I were to keep this up, I might spill my guts about everything that was bothering me. I'd tell her how scared I am, and how worried I am about how to deal with my dad. It'd be hard at first, but I'd feel so satisfied afterwards.

But taking that first step isn't easy. And I can't even fathom how I should do it.

 _If I did something bold . . . Maybe that would do it . . . But what could I—_

 _That's it._

"Kotomi?"

I can't use that suffix; the embarrassment would diminish my concetration.

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Wh-what did you-?"

My lips absorb the warmth from hers. My eyes shut naturally, and my arms pull her closer to my body. At first, her hands try to pull away from me, but slowly, she stops. The aroma I'd caught earlier is in full force, soothing me in a way I'd never imagined.

 _Yes . . . I should've realized before, but I know it now . . ._

 _I love you, Kotomi._

After what felt like hours, we separate. Cheeks red, eyes squinting out of instinct, we're completely speechless.

Kotomi is the first to break the ice.

"Thank you . . ."

"Huh?" I'm shaken out of my daze. "Isn't that a mutual thing?"

"Not in this case," she beams, "you didn't even let me answer your question."

"O-oh," I gulp, "right. I didn't mean—"

"Which means you owe me one," she winks. "Now, if you don't mind, tell me what got you so down."


	23. Time Flows Regardless

**23: Time Flows Regardless**

 _Kotomi_

He told me everything then.

He told me about the dream he heard his father chant, the dream that had made him question everything he knew about the man. He described, in vivid detail, everything he remembered about his interactions with his father since his mom's death.

I said very little. I think he was grateful for that.

When he finally finished, though, my comfort at just being a listener vanished. He needed encouragement, so I did the best I could.

"It's okay,"

His head slowly moves towards mine, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"It's okay to feel confused. I definitely understand why this unsettled you like it did."

He stays quiet.

"But . . . It's not enough to make a definite conclusion about why he acts like he does now. And it would be wrong for me to judge a man I've never met."

Smoothing out the edges of my skirt, I stand up.

"I think you should talk to him. If you let this boil up inside of you, the two of you will never reconcile."

His resolve isn't set but he's determined I'm right. After an awkward smile, he nods.

"Yeah. I'll do my best."

I peck him on the cheek. It's still awkward, but it definitely feels more natural now. "I better get home. But I'll see you later, Tomoya-kun."

He realizes how odd it is to use the suffix now that we're a couple. Even so, he takes it in stride. "Bye, Kotomi-chan,"

After a moment, we kiss again. I'm lost in the warmth of his lips just as easily as I was the first time.

We separate. He nods his head as I walk towards the car.

"I trust Tomoya-san received the counseling he was looking for?"

I shut the door behind me and lean back in my seat.

"Mmhm," I sigh.

My guardian says nothing and elects to smile in the small mirror in the center of the front row as he drives away.

 _Friday_

 _7:40 AM_

 _Ring. Ring. Ri—_

" _Hello?"_

"Dr. Matsumoto? It's Ichionse Kotomi."

" _Couldn't this wait 'till later . . ."_

My silence answers his question.

" _Brr."_

"I need to know what you've found out. Please."

" _Not much, I'm afraid. The dialogue Dr. Ishihara had with the anonymous co-worker is too vague to point to any specific suspects. On the plus side, it definitely proves the organization's up to something."_

"It seems that way at least," I push the phone closer to my ear. "I'm not sure, though."

" _What do you mean?"_

"It's bizarre. Whoever is leaving these self-incriminating notes is being very sloppy. If he or she wanted to keep this a secret, they're doing a terrible job of it."

" _Hm . . . Maybe he's eccentric? I know a thing or two about that."_

"I assume whoever's on top would have chosen clients more disciplined than that."

" _Ya never know. As we all know, people can be pretty sly when they want to . . ."_

"Wait,"

I stand up from my bed. "That's it,"

" _What is? Oh, I think I—"_

"It's a mole. That web page, the mysterious conversation with Dr. Ishihara. The same person must have written them both!"

" _That's . . . That's not a bad theory. Not bad at all, Ichinose."_

"It makes no sense that someone affiliated with such a precarious conspiracy would be so callous about their big secret. Someone in the organization must be playing them for a fool, and I might know who it is."

" _Go on."_

"Dr. Hiromu."

Total quiet.

" _You really think so?"_

"For the longest time, I thought he might be the man behind this. But he's been acting way too suspicious to be the culprit. He must be the mole, he must be the one leaking us this information."

" _What about Dr. Ishihara? What does he have to do with any of this?"_

"I'm not sure yet. Chances are, though, he may be involved. As for the frontrunner of this conspiracy, Dr. Hiromu's comrade is a solid suspect."

" _Definitely. I'll look into the possible lead. See you,"_

He hangs up. Just like that, we already have another lead.

A hand goes up to my cheek.

 _And not a moment too soon . . . The demonstration's tomorrow!_


	24. The Joy of Not Knowing

**24: The Joy of Not Knowing**

 _Tomoya_

 _7:55 AM_

I'm not totally comfortable this. Aside from the occasional update, I've agreed not to probe her about the investigation.

But you know what? That might be for the best.

Even if I put everything I had into helping her, I'm not as smart as she is. She'd come up with more ideas than I would, and she'd poke holes in every theory I had. Worse, I might be a target. If someone at the organization catches on to what she's doing, they might use me as a bait. I'd have no way of defending myself.

 _Yeah, it's better if I leave this be . . . With luck, I might be able to relax and concentrate on my studies._

That's right; we have a basketball game on Monday. There's a lot I could be channeling my energy into besides that.

Two seats across from me, Kotomi waves at me cutely. Blushing, I take one of my textbooks out of my school bag.

 _That's right. We're a couple now . . ._

I stick my nose into the book, trying my best to act casual.

 _This just got a lot more awkward._

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Yuki eyeing me curiously. Ultimately, she says nothing and carries on.

 _Okay . . . This is definitely not natural._

Nonetheless, I keep the book for first period on my desk. There's no point in putting it away.

The hour ticks by, and suddenly, I find it hard to focus for the reason I just laid out. Just my luck.

With homeroom over, I decide to strike up a casual conversation with her.

"Yo,"

I rub my hands together.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well," she smiles, "what about you, Tomoya-kun?"

And then the blushing comes. And the heads jerking in opposite directions.

 _Damn . . . How cliché can you get?_

"So, um . . . How are things?"

"Pretty good," she shakes her head, "we just got a huge development in our investigation. Hopefully, we'll have some concrete answers before tomorrow."

"G-great," I smile. "Awesome. Glad things are progressing goo- I mean, well."

Can I stop talking now? I'd really like to. Kotomi awkwardly glances at the blackboard, indicating the end of the conversation.

 _Hopefully, we'll get past this . . . Hopefully._

 _12:25 PM_

"So, lunch?"

I broach the topic as eloquently as I can under the circumstances.

"Yeah," she raises an eyebrow. "Lunch."

We spend a long time waiting in line at the cafeteria. When our turn finally comes, the cafeteria lady considers starting a conversation but stops when she sees how awkward we are.

We pick out a seat and that's kinda it. I'm eating Yakisoba bread, she's nibbling a sweet roll.

We sigh simultaneously.

"This is weird,"

We say at the same time.

"Very weird,"

"Seriously," I say, "I think we should relax. We're talking like it's the morning after or something."

"Th-that would be kind of silly," Kotomi chuckles. "I mean, we just kissed . . . right?"

"Duh," I say a bit louder than I intended. "I don't even think we're at the age of consent yet, anyways."

"Well . . . " she starts fidgeting in her seat, "I'm pretty sure that's 13 in this district."

Crickets.

 _Is she saying we should . . . Gah! Get your head out of the gutter, Tomoya. She's just awkward like you are._

"I'm sorry," I apologize out of the blue. "This kind of thing isn't my strong suit,"

"It isn't mine, either," she admits. "At least Kanna hasn't gotten a chance to find out about this."

"Yeah," I rub the back of my head, "that'll be bad."

She giggles. I follow with a half-hearted chuckle.

"So, how's the team been doing?"

"They're fine," I return. "We've got a lot of practicing to do, though. Our first game is on Monday, and I'd really like to be the starter when that time comes."

"I understand," Kotomi takes a big bite of her sweet roll, "I'm sure you'll do fine. As long as you try your hardest, the coach will definitely make you the starter."

"I hope so," I chomp into the Yakisoba bread. "Because it feels like things are going too well righ—"

 _I'm coming back._

I nearly fall backwards in my chair.

 _The time is com- I'll be home soon. In the real- I'll be back._

What the hell? That's not my voice; I don't recognize it. Something, someone must be talking to me.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Kotomi asks.

"You don't?" I raise my eyebrow. "There's this freaky voice that's—"

 _We'll be free. I know we- Soon, we can leave this- we'll be free!_

"Stop it!" I put my hands over my ears. "Stop talking!"

"Tomoya-kun?" Kotomi runs over to me and grabs me by the shoulders. "Calm down, and tell me what's wrong.

"I-I- There's someone in there!"

 _I can't wait to get out. I can't I can't-_

It's gone. It's not there anymore. The static from a couple seconds ago it's gone.

There's no voice. I don't know where it came from, but it's gone.

"It's gone,"

I slump down on my seat. "It's gone."

Kotomi watches me for a moment and then takes her seat.

"What happened? What did you hear?"

I put a hand to my forehead as sweat latches onto my hand.

"I don't know. I don't . . . know."


	25. Breather

**25: Breather**

 _3:30 PM_

 _Kotomi_

"Haah, ain't it great to take a break from all this school crap?"

"You sound an awful lot like a delinquent, Kanna," I wag my index finger, "should I tell your parents about that?"

We watch each other for a while. Then—

"Bwahahaha!"

I'm rolling on the floor beside her. I can't remember the last time I've laughed this hard. While we've kept in touch since elementary school, our meetings have been rather infrequent. Maybe it's because of all the time I've been spending with Tomoya.

Were it not for the fact he wanted to go home alone today, I'd be with him right now.

"Now, I need to ask ya something,"

She lifts herself up with a hand on my shoulder. "I'm all for us hanging out like this, but aren't you normally hanging out with Tomoya around this time?"

"Yes-yeah," I sigh, "but he's been really off since lunch. He said he was hearing some type of… voice in his head. I didn't hear it, but he was sure he heard it."

Kanna bites her lips and sits up beside me. "Do you believe him?"

"Yes… As weird as it sounds… I don't think Tomoya would lie about something like this."

"If you say so," she sips a juice box she left in her pocket, "to me, it sounds like he's just getting too immersed in those daydreams of his. You see the way he stares out the window, right?"

"I think it was more than that," I say quietly, "he was so… serious about it. Like, there was no doubt in his mind he heard something."

I curl up into a fetal position and rest my head on my legs. "I thought we'd been able to put all this stress behind us, but… He's still having trouble. I wish there was something I could do about it."

A hard smack on my shoulder later—

"Chin up. So what he's got some stress rolling around in that head of his; can you blame him?"

I blink. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it; for a while, he didn't give a rat's heinie about school, right? Now, he's a freshman in high school who's trying to keep up with the smartest girl in the world, on top of being a star athlete. Wouldn't you be stressed?"

"I'm just not sure that's all there is," I close my eyes, "he's normally so upbeat, so I… Well… I'm lost at what I'm supposed to say."

"Give him space," she throws her head against the wall. "That's what I'd say. Moody guys like him need some time alone."

"But I can't just leave him be,"

"Why not?"

"Because he's my boyfriend."

I stand up. "We're supposed to take on life's challenges—"

 _Oh_ crap.

"You mean… You mean you guys are…"

"AHHH!"

She jumps up and gives me the biggest hug I have EVER felt. I feel myself running out of oxygen fast.

"Kanna… I need to… Breath!"

"Oh, sorry,"

She lets me go, allowing me to grab extra air from my diaphragm.

"I mean, I'm just… I'm trying to wrap my head around this, I… I thought you'd be waiting for a while!"

"We-we did," I blush profusely,

"Only like a week and a half," she scolds, "I mean, whoa… Have you guys kissed yet?"

I hang my head.

"OH MY GOSH, YOUR FACE RIGHT NOW!"

She bursts into another round of laughter. Only this time, she's alone.

"St-stop it," I cover my face. "It's not that weird. I mean… we're a couple… right?"

"Don't mind me,"

Kanna gives me another hug. "I'm just not used to this. For some reason, this little voice inside kept telling me you'd guys would be too shy to make the first move. 'Guess you didn't need ol' Kanna's help after all."

She plops back down on the ground. "Man, though, he can be a real jerk. Shouldn't he be, like, talking to you about this?"

"I thought you just said it'd be good to give him some space," I giggle, joining her on the ground.

"Well, that's bird poop," she grins, "he should be bearing his heart to you. If you really love each other, you should be able to talk to each other about ANYTHING. Existential crises should be no exception."

"Maybe he's just scared because he doesn't know what's going on," I explain, "I'd be kind of scared about talking about it if I was in his shoes. I mean… I might worry I'm going crazy."

"Well," her voice goes soft, "your more paranoid than he is and for good reason. Personally, I think Tomoya's just being an angst-ridden teenaged boy."

She playfully shoves me.

"We can find him right now if you'd like. I'm sure it won't take long before that moron—"

I grab her wrist.

"What's wrong?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about Tomoya," I smile shyly, "but I'm really enjoying our time together. It's this kind of thing that reminds me why we're friends. I mean, even though I've failed social studies so many times—"

"Blegh," she giggles, "your sense of humor is just as bad, too."

"I mean this seriously. You've stuck up for me even if it'd hurt you to do so. There's no way I could possibly repay you for everything you've done."

Slightly uncomfortable, Kanna looks straight ahead.

"Truth is, I'm glad that's the case."

"Huh?"

Kanna stares at her lap. "I wouldn't want you to pay me back. I mean, if you think I saved you just because I'm this really nice girl, than you'd be mistaken."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she glances at me, "I was kind of unpopular back then, you know? I'm not the prettiest girl in the world, and a lot of the others knew that. A couple of the boys called me ugly, the girls didn't wanna hang out with a tomboy. It sucked, like, really bad."

She sighs. "Everybody at school you knew you were a rich man's daughter. So, we all kind of wanted to be your friend. But you were so quiet, and frankly, I was kind of worried you wouldn't like me anyways. It wasn't until those bullies got fed up with your popularity and tried to get in your face about it. That's when I found my avenue,"

Kanna turns away. "I was kind of athletic. It wasn't hard to teach those girls a thing or two about pain. I got in trouble for it, but I didn't care. You were willing to talk to me after that, so that was enough for me."

Kanna gets really, really quiet. "So, you see? I'm a selfish person, just like anyone else. And there's no reason you should thank me for what I—"

This time, I'm the one who hugs her. My grip is so tight, I know she can't slip away.

"Don't say that. Please. If you only did that because you wanted people to like you… You would've stopped being my friend a long time ago."

She glances up at me.

"You're my best friend, Kanna-chan. And nothing you do will change that."

Tears start to crop in her eyes. Instantly, she throws her hands on top of her eyes.

"Stupid head… Don't call me 'chan' in that serious voice… You'll make me cry."

 _Update: March 16, 2016 10:16 PM_


	26. I'll be Leaving Soon

**26: I'll be Leaving Soon**

 _Tomoya_

 _I'll be leaving, soon._

The damn noise is still there. No matter how many times I throw the ball through the freaking basket, it's still there.

I can hear it with total clarity.

I can't move right. My instincts are totally off. I'm sucking at practice. No way will the Coach start me.

Normally, I'd be able to hide this. Maybe Kotomi getting me to vent is throwing me off.

I need to talk to her. But it's too far; I can't get to her.

And who knows? Maybe she's already at the lab for some reason.

I run away.

"Okazaki, come back! Where the hell are you-?"

I don't stop. And soon, I'm downtown.

 _Maybe I'll go see Pops._

I head to Furukawa Bakery. But before I can open the door-

"Ah—"

An older man, dressed in a black trench coat, interrupts my entrance. His face is grizzled, but he has a weary look about him.

"Excuse me," I apologize curtly.

"Wait,"

He puts a hand on his shoulder.

"We need to talk."

I let the door shut. "Who are you?"

"You're Okazaki Tomoya… Aren't you?"

I shake off his grip. "How do you know me…?"

Wait. Something feels familiar about this guy.

 _Nishimura-san… He was wearing that when—_

"I'll explain. But we need to get somewhere quiet. I need to tell you something."

 _Postea_

"My name is Dr. Ayashii,"

We're in front of a train station. He wipes his glasses with a rag in his pocket.

"I'm one of Nishimura-san's co-workers."

"Were you there the day she died?"

"Yeah," He nods, "with Dr. Hiromu and him. We found out about it first, so we told her."

"Stop beating around the bush," I insinuate earlier than necessary, "Why are you talking to me?"

He sticks his hands deep in his pockets. Eyes shut, he speaks again.

"I don't have the heart to tell her myself. But… I'd like to give her a prelude to what's to come."

"What-?"

"You've been hearing things, haven't you? Voices reassuring each other that their resurrection is coming soon?"

"'Resurrection'?" I frown. "What are you talking about?"

He avoids my gaze the best he can. As he watches clouds drift away from the setting sun, he clenches his fist in his pocket.

"The world we live in… is a fake."


	27. Yes

**27: "Yes…**

 _Dr. Ayashii_

none of us belong here…"

"What are you talking about?" The boy's eyes flare in anger. His fists are clenched, and his teeth threaten to crack. I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to land a punch.

 _If he did, I would let him make contact._

"Get to the point!"

"Okazaki-san,"

He narrows his eyes.

"Four years ago… When Kotomi's parents died… Who was there to comfort her?"

"I was!" He doesn't even stop to think. It's almost as if the boy is utterly convinced nothing I say would deter him.

 _If only he was right…_

"What does that have to do with what you just said?"

"That's just it,"

I lay my body on a park bench. Okazaki watches in anger as my eyes flutter.

"I'm not buying that senile crap. You're gonna tell me what's going on!"

"I wasn't trying to fool you."

I curl my body into a ball. "I was just trying to stall you."

His features relax. He still doesn't trust me, but something in the boy is telling him to hear me out. "What's so important that you can't just tell me straight up."

"I did my best,"

I sit up, my posture now perfectly straight. "But I realized that the statement I made demanded immediate clarification."

Before the boy could interrupt, "Months before Kotomi's parents had died, Dr. Hiromu and I were experimenting with a communicator that could tap into the wavelengths of alternate dimensions."

Tomoya, still doubtful, sits beside me.

"Dr. Hiromu was jealous of the Ichinoses' recognition. He felt they had taken more money and fame than he deserved. He blamed their exalted family status. I didn't really care. I was just glad to work on something so groundbreaking."

I stare at my lap. "Nonetheless, he wanted a little side project he could call his own. Contacting several of his close comrades in the organization, he worked to create a communicator that could receive and transmit sound into other dimensions. Every free minute we had from work we spent fining a way to make that thing. We didn't even have time to stop at the bar."

A hollow laugh leaves my mouth. After that quiet ends,

"After about… Four months, I think, we'd successfully created a prototype. Dr. Hiromu was confident that the device would be able to 'find' one of the Harps the Ichinoses spent hours discussing. Using a small laboratory space at his house, we tested it."

"Did it work?"

Voice laced with suspicion, Tomoya crosses his arms.

"It did," I sigh. "We discovered a Harp. From the other side, we heard the voice of a little girl."

He's startled but not enthralled. I'm going to need to carry on longer if I want any hope of persuading him.

"The girl didn't realize we were there at first. So we listened for a while. From what we could gather from her words, she was in some kind of frozen wasteland with a robotic doll she called a friend. She doesn't know how she ended up there or even her own name. However, she did have one request for us."

"What request was that?"

I look up at the ceiling. "She wanted us to set her free."

A train passes by. Wind lifts the hat from my head. The boy is unfazed.

Once the train disappears from the station, I begin again. "I don't know how long those two had been in there, but both were striving to return. But, from a tiny pocket of the universe with no connection to our larger dimension, they had no hope of reaching it. That's when an idea came to my mind…"

I close my eyes. "I couldn't… I couldn't just let them die. I had to save them. The Ichinoses were too scatter-brained; they'd never finish it in time. We had to accelerate the process, and Dr. Hiromu was the man to—"

He punches me in the stomach. I bend over.

"I'll kill you… Dammit, I'll KILL YOU!"

He knocks me over. My head hits the arm of the bench. His hands squeeze the life out of me.

"I… I know it was… rr… wrong, but… I couldn't think straight… None of us could, we'd… never reach them."

"Don't talk like you were in the right!" His eyes bulge. "You were just a bunch of sick bastards jealous of their fame!"

"Err… We… That… Some of us… DID… think that way… but… er… that wasn't what I thought, I… I wanted them to see the sun again…"

"Don't wax poetry with me." Life is slipping away from me. It's becoming hard to think. I… I have to say something…

"You've been hearing things,"

Finally, his grip loosens. I cough up blood.

"How do you know that?"

"You… You and Kotomi were the catalysts of change… Before you helped her recover that day… They were going to come back… But then she told us that she felt they'd never get to. You've been hearing their voices because they can see how close they are to setting things right. Once they step into Earth… Both of you will cease to exist."

"Why?" He yells. "WHY?"

"In the Earth where they reside, you two never kept your friendship. After the fire, you… You forgot her."

"Fire?"

"She… loved that crackling sensation so," I bury my face in my hands. "She wanted to see it again before she died…"

"How do you know that would've happened?"

"We spent… Countless time… researching who the girl might have been and who the robot was. Although our conclusions are tentative… The girl is Nagisa Furukawa, the daughter in a family of three who own a bakery. And the robot…"

A tear falls on the bench. "Is you."

He slaps me. Hard.

"This is bullshit. Every single part."

"The world isn't supposed to be like this… Once we change it back… You'll still find happiness."

"I don't wanna find happiness any other way!"

I knee him in the gut.

"The world is fine as it is! I helped her out of it! The only reason the world sucks is because of bastards like you!"

His grip is back on my throat again.

"I… I can take you back to my house… Let you talk to them…"

He lets me go.

"How do I know that's not a trap?"

"If I kept quiet… We wouldn't have ever let you know… We would've tested the device and saved them… Neither you nor Kotomi would've been privy of it."

I stand up. "But I felt guilty. I wanted to give you and Kotomi a chance to discuss this before tomorrow."

He's completely against this. Nonetheless, he's willing to follow me.

"I'll show you exactly why we're taking this course of action."

 _ **Postea**_

"Forgive the mess,"

I bring him to my room. In the drawer under my desk is a little device.

"I'll set the coordinates,"

I do so.

"Push the button on the top, and… You will hear her."

He snatches the device and presses the button. For a minute, there's nothing but static.

"I knew you were lying…"

Just then, fog comes in clear from the other side. The voices are muffled, but we can still make out the words.

"Dr. Ayashii… Is that you…?"

"Yes," _The tension in my hands… It's gone…_ "I've brought a new friend today."

The boy stares at me.

"I… I'm Okazaki Tomoya."

There's a gasp on the other side of the line. He's sweating.

 _How will he respond to this…?_

"I… I know that name… Yes… I know that name!"

"From where?" He asks curtly.

"You're… You're my Daddy."

He drops the communicator. The thing makes a loud humming noise. It will take a long time to fix it.

He throws his arm against the nearest wall.

"You… You said that was Furukawa!"

"I can't believe we were wrong,"

I seat myself on the bed.

"But she's so much like her… Maybe… You two were supposed to fall in love. And… she's the result."

"That's crazy,"

He grabs my shoulders.

"I'll do anything to make sure this plan of yours doesn't come through!"

"Then I will have four souls on my conscience."

"That's your problem, not mine!"

"I've gone too far to back down now. The world will be re-written, she WILL be saved!"

He throws me to the ground and strangles me once more.

"This… This is useless… Even if you kill me… The demonstration will still happen. They'll pin you for this, and… You'll be hopeless to stop it."

"I'll have Kotomi do it. I'll have her destroy it."

"It won't happen… They'll be watching it closely… She has no hope of stopping it."

"I don't believe it. This is all just an elaborate hoax… I know it is."

"I wrote that message on the web page,"

He stares at me, grip still tight.

"I felt… spiteful towards them, for having been so neglectful… I also carried that anonymous conversation with Dr. Ishihara."

He continues to watch me.

"I… I wanted to sound cold, practical. I didn't want any cracks to show through the seams. I didn't want anyone to know a girl had touched Dr. Ayashii's heart. It worked… And now we've gotten this far,"

It's finally starting to hit him. The boy lets go of me. Tears in his eyes, he turns away.

"If you were doing the right thing… Why didn't you show him your findings? They might have found another way."

"They knew how long it was going to take… They didn't know a way to speed up the process…"

I stare him in the eye. "And if they were as pure as you make them out to be… They would've sacrificed their lives in a heartbeat."

"That doesn't matter! You betrayed him. You had a right to let them know!"

"You tried to change things for the better… But in the end… They'll stay the same."

His head hangs.

"Talk to Kotomi after she gets back from work… Tell her everything."


	28. Please

**28: Please**

 _Kotomi_

"Hello?"

Someone called me on the phone. I don't know who. I forgot to check the caller ID.

"Kotomi?"

"Tomoya?"

"Meet me tonight at the park."

"Why—?"

"Please."

The call ends. I hold the phone delicately in my hand as Dr. Hiromu continues to discuss the potential dangers of tomorrow's demonstration.

 _ **Postea**_

"I'm here,"

He's quiet, standing beside the swing sets. There's something… sad in his eye, but the new moon sky makes it hard to tell.

"Tomoya?"

"Did you come alone?"

"When I told my guardian who I was meeting, he was okay with it."

"…"

"Tomoya?"

"I don't know how to say this. I don't know how I'll make you believe me."

"I trust you, Tomoya… I know you wouldn't lie to me."

"But this is WAY weirder than ANYTHING you've heard before. If you were in my shoes, you'd know what I mean."

I walk towards him. "Tomoya, please..."

He turns his face towards me. The inky blackness is penetrated by a small ray of light emanating from a nearby street light.

"I have never been more serious in my life. Do you promise you'll buy every word I say?"

"Yes." I nod. "Now, tell me,"

 _ **Postea**_

No one's talked in a long, long time. And it's not because I'm having trouble stomaching the words.

In retrospect, it all makes sense.

My only concern now is deciding what to do.

"Maybe you could sabotage the device."

"They'd find out."

"It'd keep us here."

"Is that worth it? They'd throw me in jail."

"At least everything I know would still be here."

"This isn't about us. This is about a little girl who needs to be saved."

"…"

"Tomoya?"

"There has to be another way. It's just a tiny dimension, what does it have to do with us?"

"I don't know why what you did was wrong, but… Apparently, the world wasn't meant to be like this."

"That's not true,"

He turns me towards him.

"Look at me. This is real. Our friendship, everything we've been through."

He kisses me.

"You felt that, right? Wasn't that real?"

"Tomoya…"

"I'll do it again."

He kisses me once more.

"I… I know it's—"

"I'll do anything. I'll kiss you as many times as you want, as long as you promise not to let this happen."

"We… We can't stop it Tomoya."

"Kotomi!"

He kisses me for longer this time. His tongue slips through my lips. I pull his back close to my body and move forward.

I let myself fall to the ground. He keeps kissing me. I know he's going to go for my shirt, next.

I pull away from him.

"Kotomi—"

"Don't do this,"

I start to cry.

"If we do this… It'll just be harder…"

"This isn't fair,"

He bites his lip.

"We've been through hell… Why is this happening to us? It isn't fair, damn it."

"I know, I know, Tomoya, it's not fair, but we don't have a choice."

"Why do our goals have to be mutually exclusive?" He sobs. "I… I don't wanna lose you… I wanna remember you forever."

Please… Don't do this to me. You don't know how my heart is breaking. I'm hiding it for you. Just accept this and move on.

"Maybe we will… But we can't count on tha—"

His lips collide into mine. He stops for a moment.

"Don't you want to?"

"Yes. Everything in me wants to, but I know we'll regret this when we have to leave."

"I'll remember you tomorrow. I promise. This will never have happened, can't we have this memory?"

"We have to… Prepare ourselves for this… We have to be ready."

"It'll be a parting gift."

I start to unbutton his shirt.

"Oh my gosh… I want this so bad…"

"I do, too."

"Stop me… Stop me, Tomoya."

I pull it off his body, exposing his bare chest. I'm hyperventilating. This is too much all at once.

"Maybe he's lying. Maybe it _won't_ happen like that. How do we know?"

"He wasn't kidding," He responds. "This will be our last night here… I wanna spend it with you,"

"T-Tomoya…" I'm glad the night hides the red on my face. "Do you really want to—"

"You're the only one I'd ever—"

I kiss his neck. I move to his back, licking his nape. He starts to moan softly.

"W-wow… This is…"

I bend back down and kiss his stomach.

"Haah…Haah…"

I'll go for it… All in one swoop.

I unbutton his pants.


	29. Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

**29: Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow**

 _Saturday_

 _Tomoya_

They didn't want to let me in at first. After all, I wasn't a member of the project, and the exhibition was closed door. But after Dr. Ayashii thoroughly explained the situation to Dr. Hiromu, he let me in.

It's hard to look at Kotomi's guardian's face. There's a hint of pride in his eyes. He believes we're just one step away from fulfilling the Ichinoses' legacy.

 _But… I guess… He's not completely wrong…_

Dr. Ayashii whispers something into Dr. Hiromu's ears. The latter shakes his head, and the necessary preparations begin.

Kotomi does not look at me as she works. She was determined to remain stoic. She told me we'd cried enough last night.

I'm… I'm so not ready for this. I hope this happens quickly.

"I've never seen Kotomi so focused."

Her guardian's words draw my attention. He smiles warmly at me. "Her parents would be proud."

"Y-yeah," I choke out, staring back at the machine. "They would."

A whirring noise fills the room. Current can be heard inside the machine's circuitry.

I'm not sure what's going to happen next. What is this sensation going to feel like? What will the new world be like?

 _…_ _We'll…We'll find each other again…_

I'm crying. Kotomi's resolve fails almost immediately afterwards.

We hold each other. Her guardian, not understanding the situation, just watches us.

After a flash of light, for a single second, everything is black.


	30. Talk to Her

**30: Talk to Her**

 _Tomoya_

Two tables behind Takeshi and me is a girl sitting on her own.

She's pretty. She has auburn eyes and short auburn hair. She's eating anpan, which means she was probably late in line. Someone like her wouldn't be the type to dash out of class just to get bread.

 _Still, someone like her deserves better…_

"Tomoya?"

Grabbing hold of my head, Takeshi forcibly cranes my neck back towards our table.

"What's got your head in the clouds?"

Blushing, I jerk my thumb back.

"Oh," he rolls his eyes, "it's not that hard, man. If you like her, just walk up and talk to her."

"That would be way too forward," I slump in my seat, "I don't wanna ask if we can go out right away."

"You don't have to."

He glances at a couple of nearby tables. "It's obvious she feels a little lonely, you know? She's a second year, so maybe her old friends are busy making new ones."

"How cruel," I frown.

"I dunno," he leans back, "I'm just saying. You know what to do if you're interested."

I look down at the katsudon in my hand. I'd been looking forward to lunch all morning. The classes at Hikarizaka are even worse than the ones in middle school. This one hour reprieve is all I've got before the end of the day.

… _I don't need it._

Pulling back from the table, I stand up from my seat. I go to take a step but hesitate.

Takeshi tilts his head in the direction of the girl. I shake my head. He tilts his head harder. I resist.

Mouth drooping, he walks behind me and kicks my butt.

"Ouch!"

"Go!" He whispers loudly. Teeth on my bottom lip, I head towards her table.

I'm a few feet away, but she hasn't noticed me yet. I'm thankful. It gives me some time to think of something to say.

"H-hey?"

"Huh?"

She looks up at me, slightly startled. After taking a moment to assess the situation, she tries her best to smile.

"G-good morning."

"Yeah," I stare at the tiled floor, "good morning."

A little late, she lifts herself up off her seat and bows. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"No, um… I wanted to do something for you."

"Huh?" She doesn't understand. I don't blame her. I haven't exactly made my intentions clear.

"I-I mean," I turn my head away, "do… I mean… can I sit next to you?"

"Oh…" She puts her hand to her lip, "S-sure. You can… um… sit next to me."

I take the seat beside her. The faint aroma of cinnamon lingers in the air. I try to swallow back my embarrassment.

"Is something wrong?" She asks.

"I need to apologize," I hang my head, "I'm acting really weird."

"N-no, it's fine," she looks ahead, "if I was in your shoes, I'd be nervous too."

"Here,"

I present my katsudon.

"W-would you like to trade? It stinks to have to eat something like anpan on the first day."

Surprised, she shakes her head. "No, you don't have to do that. I'm fine with anpan."

"It's okay," I fib, "I actually like anpan for its, you know, sweet taste?"

"Hey," she puffs out her lower lip, "I thought you just said it stinks to eat anpan on the first day."

"…Yeah," I sigh, "I'm not the best liar. Still, I want to give you it."

She watches me for a while. My awkward behavior is probably making me hard to read. I don't exactly look like the meek type. Maybe she's worried I'm trying to manipulate her.

 _Please don't let that be the case…_

"Um… Thank you very much,"

She places the anpan in front of me, and I place the katsudon in front of her. To encourage her to eat it, I take a bite of the anpan.

 _Eck… So sweet…_

"This is good,"

I force my mouth to say. "Maybe I underestimated anpan."

"Something tells me your lying again," she narrows her eyebrows in concentration, "but since you _really_ want me to eat the katsudon, I'll take a bite."

Her delicate lips latch on to the bread's right side. Her teeth sink into the bread. She takes her time chewing the morsel before swallowing.

"This is really good," She smiles, "I can see why you came so fast to get it."

"It was pretty easy," I return.

"Really?"

"Yeah," I nod, "I snuck out of class before fourth—"

I slap a hand over my mouth. _Dammit, she's going to hate me now!_

"So, you skipped class?"

"…Uh-huh," my shoulders sag, "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to stop talking to me at this point."

"Don't be silly," she rebuffs gently. "If I was so judgmental to someone who had just been so nice to me, _I_ would be in the wrong."

"All I did was give you some bread."

" _And_ sit next to me," she giggles, moving her chair a little closer to mine. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. "I'm Furukawa Nagisa from Class 2-D."

"Okazaki Tomoya from Class 1-D," I bow, laughing at the coincidence. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, Okazaki-san." Furukawa beams, tilting her head happily.

 _3:35_

"It's funny,"

Takeshi starts as we leave school for the day.

"Yeah?"

"I was kind of worried you guys wouldn't hit it off," he grins, "I mean, you're so blunt most of the time, I figured you'd scare her off."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence,"

"Your welcome," He winks, "but, I gotta tell you… From where I sat, you guys looked like birds of a feather."

"Stop it," I shove him a little.

"I know I'm being sappy, but I mean it."

He pats my back. "I think it'll work out between you two."

"Wow, thanks." I chuckle. "I'm kind of surprised you're so okay with this. I mean, you're best friend is bonding with the bacteria-ridden sub-species of the human race known to most as 'females'."

"Man, I grew out of that years ago," he frowns, "but don't expect me to be getting a girlfriend any time soon. Soccer is enough for me."

"That's right," I look at him. "How did auditions go?"

"I killed it," He puts his hands on his hips proudly, "I have to admit, though, the upperclassmen look pretty scary. You know, the type who get a thrill from seeing cocky guys like me humiliated."

"Hazing?"

"Exactly," he wipes sweat from his forehead, "thankfully, I'm not their first target. There's this guy with blonde hair named Sunohara Youhei, and he's _nuts_."

"Wait, his hair is actually blonde?"

"No, dumbass," he groans, "it's dyed. But anyways, one of the second years gave him this really dirty look. And you know what he did?"

"You haven't told me yet, how am I supposed to know?"

"Smartass," he says before continuing, "Sunohara stood on his tippy toes, stared right into his eyes, and spit in his face."

"No way."

"Yes way," Takeshi puts his hands behind his head, "the second year was ready to snap his neck. Too bad the teacher saw the whole thing."

"Was he mad?"

"Hell yeah. But Sunohara was actually pretty good in the tryouts, so he didn't wanna send him packing." He closes his eyes. "So, he had him stay late to help clean the field."

He takes one of his hands from behind his head and points at me. "How were Basketball tryouts?"

"Fine," I nod, "I'm glad you helped me practice all last week. I had some stiff competition."

"What did the Coach say about your shoulder?"

"It doesn't hurt much," I move it around a little with my right hand. "I'm just glad that you knocked some sense into me and got me to see a Doctor. I never would have made it this far otherwise."

"Hey, that's what friends do." Takeshi grins. "You have nothing to thank me for."

With a lull in the conversation, I start to notice the area. Takeshi stops walking just before he moves on to the crosswalk.

"What's up?"

I look down a long stretch of sidewalk to my left. "She's not far from here…"

A couple cars pass by, blowing the hair on our heads in all directions.

"What happened isn't your fault."

"She invited me, Takeshi," I hang my head, "but I wasn't there for her…"

"You did everything you could to make up for it," he crosses his arms, "in my mind, if she isn't willing to forgive you after all this time, then she's not worth having as a friend."

"Hey, _I'm_ the one who messed up!"

"So did she," he narrows his eyebrows, "they're two sides to friendship, Tomoya. She didn't fulfill her end of the bargain."

I want to argue, but I can't muster up any good points. So, I change the focus of the conversation slightly.

"You think she's a student at Hikarizaka?"

"Probably. It's the best school in town. Unless she's attending some place out of district."

"Do you think she'd be home?"

"Maybe," he shakes his head, "but I don't think you should go."

"But—"

"Do you know how many times you've tried to apologize to her for what happened?" He asks. "Too many. Why would she suddenly decide to answer her?"

"It'll be the last time, I promise." I reassure him. "I… I know if we were still friends, she'd wanna hear about this."

"I don't know." He sighs. "I think you need to let go."

"Please. Let me do this."

He thinks it over for a few minutes. Finally,

"Alright. But don't get your hopes up."

I offer no response to his inquiry. "See you later, Takeshi."

"Bye, Tomoya."

He follows the crosswalk to the sidewalk opposite the one I'm on. After taking a deep breath, I follow the sidewalk.

On my way there, I pass the outer parts of the downtown area. A couple of the smaller business have their shops here. This time, one sticks out to me.

It's a red sign with the words "Furukawa Bakery" on it.

 _Furukawa Bakery…_

I don't remember her mentioning anything about her family. But it's worth a shot.

 _I'll go to Kotomi's house right afterwards…_

I push open the door to the shop.

I'm taken aback by the homey atmosphere. The fragrance of the goods stored in trays behind glass, and the sky blue walls contribute to the serendipity I feel right now.

"Good afternoon,"

A women I haven't seen before greets me. She looks a lot like Nagisa, only her hair is a lighter shade.

 _Maybe she's her mother…? No way, she looks too young. She's gotta be her sister._

"Welcome to the Furukawa Bakery? What can I get for you today?"

"Um…" Originally, I was just here to see Furukawa, but the food looks really good. I might as well use some of my allowance. "I'm not sure. There's so much to choose from."

"I completely understand. Might I make a suggestion?"

"Sure,"

She talks a lot like a mother, though. Maybe she just ages gracefully.

"We started making these just yesterday," she points to a circular bread on the top row.

"It's a rice cracker bun?"

"A 'rice cracker bun'?"

"It is a boring name," she frowns, "I wanted to call them 'the crispy crackle rice cracker bun', but my husband, Akio, said it would be unmarketable. I don't know what he could mean by that."

"I have no idea, either," I smirk. "Can I buy one?"

"Sure," she punches some numbers into a cash register, "that will be 200 yen."

I place a couple of coins into her palm.

"Thank you,"

I take a bite right away.

 _Eck…_

It's way too crunchy. The bun is overcooked and the cracker just adds to the feeling. It's like chewing on wood.

"Do you not like the bun?"

 _Oh no! I can't make a bad impression by insulting her mother's cooking!_

"N-no, I like it a lot." I force a smile. "It has a unique flavor."

"Thank you," My ambigious sentiment works perfectly. I force myself to eat the rest.

"That was really good," I pat my stomach.

"Will there be anything else?"

"Oh yeah," I'm starting to blush again. _Why am I so bad at this?_ "You wouldn't happen to have a daughter named Furukawa Nagisa, would you?"

"Why yes, we do." She claps her hands merrily together. "Are you a friend of hers?"

"Y-yeah," I feel kind of awkward saying that when we've only talked once. "We had lunch together. Is she in?"

"Why yes. She's in her room. Could you wait a moment?"

"Thank you,"

I bow as she leaves. Butterflies start fluttering in my stomach.

 _Don't mess this up…_

Suddenly, I hear footsteps from down the hall.

 _Oh man…_

The guy taking Mrs. Furukawa's place behind the counter is terrifying. He has spiky hair the same shade as his daughter, and a shark tooth smile. He's carrying a baseball bat against his right shoulder and a cigarette is dangling from his mouth. He looks peeved.

 _I'm toast…_

"So, you're the boy who likes Nagisa, huh?"

"Wh-what?" I sweat. "We aren't going out or anything—"

"Don't lie to me," he leans towards me, "the rosy-red cheeks, the boyish face, the shivering legs. You definitely have a crush on my daughter."

I swallow.

"So, instead of buying something like a good customer, you just came here to steal my daughter away from me!"

"N-n-no," I shake my head, "I bought your wife's rice cracker bread."

"Really?" He straightens his posture. "Where is it now?"

I gesture to my mouth.

"Whoa, you ate the whole thing? And without complaining?"

"Y-yeah?" I bend back a little. The man watches me for an eerily long length of time. Finally,

"Hmph," he grins, "not bad."

"I'm here!"

Furukawa skips to the front counter. When she sees me, her cheeks reddens slightly.

"G-good afternoon, Okazaki-san."

"Good afternoon, Furukawa-san."

" _Howdy_ ," 'Akio', I think, responds. "But for future reference, it's 'Akio-sama'."

"Uh…"

"Just messing with you, punk," he pats my shoulder hard and winks. "I'll be out back. Do you mind handling the store, Nagisa?"

"Sure, Dad." She shyly looks into my eyes as her Father leaves. "I hope they weren't too hard on you."

"Th-they weren't too bad," I settle down as he leaves, "really. They seem like nice people."

"Is there something in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"Hm..." I hadn't really thought about that. Didn't I just come here to find out if she lived here or not? "Not really. I just wanted to stop by and say 'hi' on my way to a friend's house."

"I hope it isn't too far," she looks through the glass door, "it's getting dark outside."

"It's not. She lives in a ritzy neighborhood a couple blocks from here."

Her eyes widen. She turns her head and scratches her chin for a couple minutes.

"Is her name Ichinose Kotomi?"

"Y-yes…" I look at her in shock. "You know who she is?"

"Sort of," she says, "her guardian, Nishimura Yamada, is a regular customer. He talks about her a lot, but, I don't think she's ever actually visited."

"Oh…" I sigh. "We used to be really good friends, but… Ever since what happened to her parents…"

"Mmhm," she starts tearing up, "Nishimura-san talked about it a lot. She hasn't been the same since. He says when she's not at school, the only times he ever sees her is when she heads to the library to borrow research materials."

"It's worse than I thought…" I put my hands on my hips. "I wanted to visit her again, to tell her about my first day at high school."

"…Okazaki-san?" She pipes up.

"Yeah?"

"I'd been meaning to visit her since Nishimura-san started coming, but…" she hangs her head, "I've been too shy. Do you think I could come with you to visit her?"

I hadn't really expected this. Whenver I've gone to visit Kotomi, I've always been on my own. This would feel kind of weird.

But… she mustered up the courage to ask me something like that. It would be rude to turn her down.

"Alright,"

Her eyes glimmer with joy.

"Let's go." I say, heading towards the exit.

 _Postea_

What's left of the grass in the lawn is short and the color of corroded metal. The chair Kotomi used to sit in the front yard is knocked over.

I tighten my fists.

"Okazaki-san?"

Nagisa stares up at me.

"This is… hard…"

She puts a hand on my shoulder. "But this time, you have someone by your side. We'll pull through."

 _I hope you're right._ I force the words back down my throat and go up to the door. After ringing the doorbell:

"Can I help you-?"

Her guardian recognizes us both. After a minute of silence:

"I suppose you want to talk to Ichinose-san?"

"Yes," we say in unison.

He hangs and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but Ichinose-san informed me she doesn't anyone today."

 _No…_

"Would you two like to come in?"

"S-sure," Furukawa waits for my response.

"…Okay."

Kotomi's guardian leads us inside this house. It's dustier than I remember, but otherwise, this place looks exactly like I remembered.

He leads us into the living room and instructs us to sit down. I find myself watching the Grandfather clock.

"…It's broken."

"Huh?" He follows my gaze. "Oh, I've been meaning to get it fixed. He's been stuck at 4:55 for a long time now."

 _4:55… Something about that feels so… familiar…_

"Nishimura-san?"

"Yes, Nagisa-san?"

"Is it alright if I look at a picture of Kotomi-san? A recent one?"

"Hmm…" He strokes his chin in thought. "I was given a copy of her 9th grade yearbook photo. Let me see if I can find,"

He disappears into the kitchen. We sit silently beside each other.

"…I really want to help her."

I glance at Nagisa.

"I know I've never met Kotomi-san, but… She's been through so much. If we could find a way to reach her, find a way to break through that shield she's put around her,"

Her fists are clenched, and her eyes are determined. "She will be a happier person in the long-run."

Her conviction is contagious. I can't do anything but nod in response.

"Here it is,"

Nishimura-san brings us the picture. Three things stick out to me:

One, she's still wearing those bulbs in her hair.

Two, her face is frigid. A stranger might just think she's stoic. But I know she's broken inside.

Three, her eyes are red. She must have been crying that morning.

"Poor Kotomi…" Surprisingly, Nagisa notices the same things I do.

"She puts on a brave face most of the time," he sighs as he puts the photo back in his pocket. "But her emotions come out on times like those… Times her parents would have been there to congratulate her…"

Nagisa's starting to cry. I clench my knees in anger.

 _Why… Why isn't there_ something _I can do?  
_

"Wait…"

Nagisa sniffles before straightening her posture.

"I think… I've seen her before."

"You have?" Her guardian says.

"Y-yes," she nods, "I've been having this weird dream lately… I see two people, embracing in front of an all-consuming light."

She points at me. "It sounds crazy, but… I think that was you and Kotomi."

"But… But how?" I can't believe I'm saying this, but something about her words feels very familiar.

"You two were meant to be friends,"

She stands up. "And whether my dream is just a coincidence or something more, I _have_ to help her."

She charges up the stairs. I can do little more than follow her.

We reach her bedroom door. The text on the wooden board marking it is legible but barely. It's re-inking is long overdue.

"Kotomi?" Nagisa clumsily starts with her first name. "I-I'm Furukawa Nagisa? We go to the same school."

Nothing from behind the door.

"I just wanted to tell you… I am so, so sorry about what happened to your parents… I wish there was something I could do to change it, but there isn't anything."

Tears well up in her eyes.

"But I can try to make things a little better… I want to be your friend, Kotomi. I want to help you through those times when you feel sad and lonely. Please, Kotomi… Let me in…"

She waits for a while. Nothing happens. Disappointed, she takes a step back.

"You don't know," I whisper, "we might be making progress."

I face the door, but… I shudder. I find myself tearing up before I can even begin.

 _What am I supposed to say…?_

"Okazaki-san,"

She pressures me softly. "You can do it. Talk to her like you always have,"

I try to pace my breathing. Several seconds later, I'm finally ready.

"Kotomi… After my mom died… you were the first friend I had. Back then, I couldn't find happiness anywhere. My father used to hit me a lot and tell me I was useless because I wasn't doing well in school… You were the only bright spot. Spending time with you reminded that there is good in this well… That there was good in this world… And no matter how hard things got, there was something worth living for."  
I go down on my knees. "I'm sorry I betrayed you… I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most… I was afraid… And I've beat myself up for it every day… But I've been trying to come back… I've been trying to find a chance to apologize… But the damage was done. I'd made you angry… And you had every right to shut me out…"

Confidence brims in my soul. "But we promised we'd see each other again. I don't remember where, I don't remember when, but I know we did… You're my best friend, Kotomi. And nothing will ever change that… If you still want to shut me out, that's your right… But I beg with all my heart…"

I let my hands slide down the door.

"Please forgive me… Please…"

That was it. Everything I'd been bottling up for five years was all off my chest. She probably won't respond.

But even if she doesn't… At least I'll have closure…

Suddenly, the door opens.

Light peels in from the window in her room. Kotomi looks down at me and smiles.

"Thank you for keeping our promise," she closes her eyes, "Tomoya-kun."

 _ **Fin**_


End file.
